Bound Together
by BnSammyDee
Summary: This is an AU Keenler story based on the movie, Radius, in which a man wakes up to find out that anyone who comes within 50ft of him dies instantly. (Starring Diego Klattenhoff!) This is a story revolving around the Blacklist characters with the premise of the movie. AU in which Ressler is a fugitive who kills anyone who gets close to him, that is until he meets Liz.
1. Chapter 1: A Savior in the Snow

**A/N:** This is my first fanfic ever, so I'm sorry if there's any issues with the format or how it's set up. Also I would really appreciate comments/reviews and if you're kind enough to leave any, please be as constructively harsh and critical as you can be so I can get better at it :) I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this story. It'll probably depend on the reaction I get from it, but I'll keep y'all updated.

Seeing the movie isn't really necessary to read this, but here is a link to the trailer of the movie, Radius, so those who haven't seen it can have a bit of context: watch?v=NExqMxRRM64&vl=en-US

I'm pretty sure it's on Netflix[U.S] right now (Jan 2019) so if you wanna see it, that's where I saw it. It's an amazing movie, honestly one of my favorites. I just hope I do it justice.

 **DISCLAIMER:** I own none of the characters of the Blacklist or the concept of the movie, Radius. Nor do I own anything with YouTube or Netflix.

* * *

He used to love being out here. He relished the cold mountain air numbing his cheeks and hearing the chirping birds in the rustling leaves every morning. In the middle of the day, he'd watch the chattering woodland creatures scurry around him as he chopped wood and strolled through the trees, hiking past the rippling streams. At night, he would bask in the warmth of a crackling fire that invigorated the shadows cast upon the walls of his cabin; the smell of fresh kindling filling his nose and the taste of whiskey tingling on his lips as his fingers flipped the pages of whatever book had called to him that evening. It used to be a reminder that he was alive; a chilling, fragrant, vibrant reminder that there was more to his life than being buried in paperwork and chasing criminals. More to see than blurry pictures of terrorists. More to hear than the deafening gunshots and explosions. More to smell than blood-soaked rooms and trails of burning gasoline.

Now he hates it. He can barely remember the things he wanted to get away from. Can't imagine how he used to live. But he missed it. He missed the idiots honking at him after they almost ran him over. He missed the disgusting smells of unknown whatevers wafting up from the streets he ran through. He missed the frustrating gridlock of rush hour. Most of all, he missed not having to hunt or forage for food; not having to search high and low for some semblance of real comfort. Not having to wonder whether he'd rather freeze to death or starve to death. Everything was turned around now. And if he had any choice in it at all, he would go back to his life of falling asleep at his desk or trying not to get shot.

He had been wandering around the woods for almost two hours now. He scolded himself for doing this so late; finding food was hard enough when the snow was almost up to his knees. Trying to do it without the full light of the sun was almost impossible. Granted, he figured that fixing the hole in his roof and keeping the cold out was more important to finish early, but still he was worried. He had about another hour or two before the sun would set and he had yet to find anything to eat. It's usually easier for him. Walk around for five to ten minutes and he'd find a dead rabbit, or a bird would fall from the sky. Today, he wasn't so lucky.

Just as he had almost resigned to digging into the emergency canned rations he had saved up, he saw it. Slender legs with a sumptuous body. Thick fur that kept the cold away. Yeah, she was beautiful, alright. And he wanted nothing more than to have her for dinner. He crouched down as the doe turned towards him. It stared at him, making no movement as caution flooded its body. He gauged the distance from it, realizing he was much too far to kill it without startling it.

 _Come on, just one step closer. Don't you run from me._

Still it stared at him. It looked as if it had been frozen in place by the cold weather. The same weather that was making itself known to his extremities. If he doesn't kill this thing soon, he was going to have a hard time getting back to the cabin in the dark. But he also didn't want to go home empty-handed. He willed the doe to come closer, but apparently it couldn't read minds.

 _Idiot._

Eventually, he lost his patience and made to move towards the doe. Still crouching, he carefully lifted his leg from the snow and set it before him. As he stepped down, however, the crunching snow and the movement of what it had been watching for the last several minutes spooked it, and the doe hopped off, leaving behind upturned snow and a frustrated mountain hermit.

 _Goddamn it._

He sighed and turned back towards his cabin, both burning with annoyance and shivering from the dropping temperature. He made it back with just enough light seeping through the trees to guide his way into the cabin. When he reached the front door, however, he noticed a black shape on the ground by the side of his cabin, covered by a light blanket of snow. As he walked closer, the sight took his breath away.

 _Oh, fuck._

Just when he thought this day couldn't get any worse. He sighed as he crouched down by a body lying face down in the snow. He carefully turned it over and came face to face with a woman, her face pale and her softly parted lips almost blue. Her auburn hair, sprinkled with snow, waved at the ends and cascaded just past her shoulders. Frost crusted lightly on her eyelashes and if he wasn't so contrite at the moment, he would've found her to be graceful in death, even as a few bruises and cuts marred her face. That may have been the worst part for him. Taking the life away from a beautiful, innocent person. There was no getting used to it. He'd come out here to keep away from everyone, putting up threatening signs around the property to dissuade people from coming close. It usually worked, but clearly it wasn't enough.

Guilt gnawed at his heart, the same feeling he'd felt since this whole mess began. He hadn't killed anyone in almost a year. Hell, he hadn't seen anyone for that long. Seeing this poor woman just brought back all the shame that he had worked so hard to push down. He clenched his jaw, disgusted with himself in not doing enough to keep this from happening. He shook his head as he felt prickling in his eyes.

 _Goddamn it, I'm sick of this._

Rubbing his eyes clear of the tiresome rage and disgrace that threatened to flood over, he positioned his hands to lift the woman, deciding that he couldn't leave her like this. The least he could do was give her some kind of burial.

As he gently placed one hand under her knees and another under her shoulders, she shifted. A weak, broken groan emanated from her throat and he fell back, scooting away in shock.

 _What the hell..?_

He looked over the woman, still lying frozen and unmoving.

 _That...that wasn't real right? I'm finally going crazy out here?_

He shook his head and willed his sense to come back to him. Quickly, he rushed beside the woman, taking his right hand out of its glove and warming it up with his breath as much as he could before placing two fingers on her neck. His heart almost stopped as he could barely feel a slow, weak pulse tapping against his fingers.

 _Holy shit._

He lifted her up as gently as possible and walked briskly into his cabin, laying her down softly onto his bed. He brushed away as much snow as he could from her hair, face, and clothes, and eventually resigned to taking off her soaking coat and hanging it off of the bedpost. After a few seconds of awkward deliberation, he decided to strip her of her drenched shoes, socks, pants, and shirt and hung them on a clothesline above his sink. He felt that if she woke up with absolutely no clothes on, she wouldn't appreciate it so he left her underwear alone. Being almost completely naked didn't seem like the best way to wake up in a stranger's cabin in the middle of nowhere, but he would much rather apologize to someone screaming at him than to a grave.

He then rushed off to his wardrobe, pulling out a thick coat and as many blankets as he could find, and made his way back to her. He sat on the side of the bed, carefully propping her up on his shoulder as he worked to put the coat on her, slipping her arms through and lifting the hood over her head. Finally, he laid her down tenderly, covering her with five blankets and tucking her into a soft, warm cocoon.

He looked over her for a few minutes, bundled in his bed, and noticed the cold pallor already beginning to drain away; the color returning to her face and lips. He then realized how tense he was, feeling his heavy breathing slow down as he felt the worst of the crisis abating.

 _She's alive… Am I dreaming?_

He walked over to the fireplace and added more wood to the dying flame, tending to it with a poker.

 _Is she just...immune to it?_

When the fire began to crackle and dance, he pulled out some water and filled a kettle. He placed the kettle on the wood stove, lit the fire, and made his way back towards the woman. Pulling a chair near the bed, he warmed his hands and felt for her pulse and her breathing again. Her pulse was much stronger and her breathing was more prominent than earlier and he allowed himself to smile at that. He grabbed a book from the nearby nightstand and settled into the chair, determined to stay and monitor the woman's vitals through the rest of the night.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Again, if y'all could kindly leave comments/reviews to help me with the story+writing in general, I would greatly appreciate it. If you do, please be as constructively harsh and critical as you can :)


	2. Chapter 2: Take Me Back Home

He groaned as he rolled over, reaching at the nightstand and slamming his hand to end the merciless beeping of his alarm. He turned back and slung his arm over her, burying his face into her hair and reveling in the smell of jasmine that he had gotten so used to. He sought warmth in the cold gloom of the early morning, taking her hand in his.

"Jesus, babe you're freezing." He muttered into her ear. He rubbed her hand with his, bringing it up to his mouth and exhaling warmth. "Better?" He whispered.

He eased his hand on her stomach, placing a kiss on her neck, but she didn't respond.

"Hey, come on, time to get up." He said softly, rubbing her arm.

Again she didn't respond, and when he placed his hand back on her stomach for a few seconds, it didn't rise.

"Audrey?" He sat up and gently turned her over.

His eyes widened and his breath halted at the sight of her. She wore no expression, her lips parted slightly as her eyes, pale and white, blankly stared back at him without a soul behind them.

* * *

Ressler woke with a sharp inhale and jolted, sending the book that had been resting on his leg thumping onto the wooden floor. He sighed as his breathing calmed, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. He picked up the book and set it on the nightstand. Looking out of the window, he noticed that the sun was up and morning had come quick.

He should be used to it by now. It only made sense that the start of each day matched the beginning of this lonely life he lives. Yet, he still woke up with his heart racing and his breath heavy. The only surprise he's had in a while was laying on his bed, sleeping soundly. He rubbed his hands to warm them and gently reached over to the woman's neck. Her pulse was back to a normal rate and her breathing was strong and healthy. His hands were warmed by the crook of her neck and he sighed in relief as he realized that her temperature was back to normal. After seeing a few beads of sweat on her forehead, he pulled the hood of the coat down and removed two layers of blankets so that she wouldn't be too warm.

He put the kettle on and lit a fire in the fireplace. Sitting at the table, he contemplated on what he would do once she woke up. He looked over the woman, who seemed at peace and realized she was almost naked. Knowing that her clothes would be damp and cold, he went to his wardrobe and pulled out socks, sweatpants, and a sweater; the smallest he could find. He placed them on the chair beside the bed and was about to walk through the door when a glint caught his eye.

Hanging off the hem of her pants was a badge, the sunlight bouncing off its pristine metal.

 _Shit. She's a fed?_

He turned to her and saw her still sleeping soundly. He quietly made his way to the coat that hung on the bedpost and searched the pockets. He found an ID card showing that she was an FBI agent.

 _Elizabeth Keen..son of a bitch._

He placed it back inside the coat and realized that he didn't find a gun or any type of weapon on her. Steadily, he made his way outside where he found her and rooted around in the snow until he spotted it. Her gun. He shook his head in disappointment and realized that this was a problem.

 _The minute she wakes up, she's going to try to bring me in._

He sighed and shoved the gun behind his back into his jeans. The whistling of the kettle brought his attention back inside and he slipped in, away from the cold. Inside, he poured the hot water into a mug and steeped some tea in it, adding a bit of sugar.

 _Maybe she won't recognize me.._

He began making himself some coffee when movement caught his eye. A bird had perched on the windowsill outside. His eyes grew wide as he stared at it, hopping along the glass and flitting its head as it saw him. He nearly dropped his coffee as he quickly rushed outside and looked around the clearing.

Movement. He could actually see things moving nearby. In the trees, the bushes; could hear the birds chirping nearby, and woodland critters moving around. It shocked him. Not only was it a ridiculously cold winter, but also because he hadn't seen much life for almost a year. He stepped forward to see the animals. Then, as quickly as his heart filled with hope, it broke. A bird crashed into the snow a few feet ahead of him. Followed by two more. Seeing this made him grit his teeth, his eyes closed. He clenched his hands into fists and he shook his head. He felt like an idiot. That he could believe there was an end to this. That he had the slightest bit of hope that things would change. He sighed in disappointment then turned to walk towards the cabin, but stopped in his tracks.

 _If this thing came back on, she'll die when I get close._

He was angry and ashamed. Pissed that he had gotten a taste of having life around him only to have it immediately ripped away.

 _Fuck._

* * *

Her hands stung from the bitter, icy cold of the freezing squall. Her entire body ached and she wonder how it was possible that she was still clinging onto consciousness. Nevertheless, she persisted, dragging her bruised and beaten body out of the wrecked SUV. She trudged in the snow against the roaring blizzard. She limped and dragged her leg, though she could feel her nerves freezing, her pain becoming numb. She didn't know whether to see this as a good thing or a bad thing. She heard a car behind her squeal to a stop, and she tightened her ripped coat around her, trying to move faster. Heading for the nearby woods, she grit her teeth through the cold and tried to double her pace when she heard the man's voice behind her call out to her.

"Come on! You're never going to make it out in this, sweetheart! Just let me take us back to the house!" the man's gruff voice teased.

If it wasn't so cold, she would've felt her skin crawl at the sound of his voice. Michael Richardson. A man who'd spent years involved in drugs, human trafficking, arms trade, and whatever crime one could think of. Liz had somehow gotten away after being held in his basement and she had no plans of going back. She turned her head and couldn't see him, but knew he wasn't far behind. Using the trees and the blizzard to her advantage, she eluded him. The showering snow covered her tracks and obscured her figure and the darkness falling with the night boosted her advantage. Through all of this however, the man still seemed to know which direction she limped, judging from the beam of light coming from his flashlight.

As she marched through the snow, she lost her footing and found herself rolling down a steep hill and into a furrow in the ground covered by a fallen tree. Liz gasped, feeling her head throbbing from the fall. Her arms and legs were weak and bruised, and she found it hard to breathe after her back and her chest hit the ground repeatedly. Banged up and scratched, she groaned in pain as she forced herself to sit up. She then saw the light flashing above her and coming over the hill. She quickly took shelter, hiding under the snowy branches of the tree and positioning herself as low and as deep into the hole as possible. She tried to still her breathing, shivering as she could feel the cold seeping deeper into her bones.

Liz watched the beam of light swing across the obscurity. Moments later, she could just make out the sound of crunching snow being carefully sifted. She stilled herself as well as she could, praying that he wouldn't find her. Then she lost sight of the light. The crunching snow was walking away from her, further into the woods. She slowly peeked out of the trench, searching for the light as the snow continued to fall heavily. She saw the man's tall figure, searching for her within the trees. She considered backpedaling and heading back towards the road, but remembered that she hadn't seen anything for miles before she crashed. Liz decided to follow the man and wait for a chance to take his keys, knowing it was her only chance of surviving the snowstorm. She pulled herself out of the hole with great effort. Her muscles flared in pain, the cold momentarily gone and replaced by the marks of her accident. She gave herself a moment to recover and followed the man as he walked through the woods. She snuck behind tree after tree, keeping herself hidden as he spoke out to her.

"You know, I can just leave - let you freeze out here!"

She clenched her jaw in disgust, glaring at the man's back.

"But no! Because I am a kind and loving person!"

She listened to him shouting while she dug through the snow for a weapon. A rock, a stick, anything she could use against him, though she knew she was in no condition to fight. The man brandished her gun in the air as he yelled and strolled. He didn't seem affected by the cold at all.

"So just come back and I promise I'll be gentle." He said deviously. "Hell, I'll even let you choose how I kill-"

Liz watched in shock as he suddenly dropped to the ground, his body plunging itself into a thick layer of snow.

 _What the hell..?_

She waited a few moments, watching his fallen figure as snow began to cover it. When he didn't move, she moved closer and closer until she was only a few feet away. She grabbed her gun and his flashlight and strained herself in flipping over his body then almost gasped at his face. Covered in a dusting of snow, he had a blank look on his face; his eyes were white and she could tell that there was no light behind them.

 _He's...dead?_

She didn't know how to even start trying to figure it out. She did know that if she didn't do something soon, she'd be joining him. She decided to just come back for him and explain herself to the team later. She shoved the gun in her holster and looked at the man. Confused, but eventually finding some sense, she patted his pockets, trying to feel desperately for the keys, but couldn't find them. Liz grunted in frustration.

 _He must've left them in the car._

The darkness and the blizzard had gotten her turned around and lost. She doubted she would make it up that hill in her condition. She looked around anxiously until she saw something - a piece of wood nailed to a tree.

She walked towards it and wiped away the snow and frost.

 **'TURN AROUND! TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT!'**

 _Is that how he died? I didn't hear a gunshot. And there was no blood._

She looked over at the corpse then back at the sign.

 _Screw it. I'd rather be shot in the head than freeze to death._

She walked on, limping and slowly succumbing to the effects of the cold and the injuries. The adrenaline that had gotten her this far was waning, and she didn't know how much longer she could go on. Just as she was about to give up and lay down, she saw it. A small, flickering light, emanating from between the trees. Liz followed the light, knowing it was her only chance at survival. She could feel herself getting slower. Her legs getting weaker, and her eyes getting heavier. She had stopped shivering and every sound she heard echoed sharply in her ears. She could feel her head slightly swaying, each movement feeling as though it was in slow-motion. Then, as her sight grew blurry and her head throbbed, she saw what seemed to be - what she hoped to be - a cabin, the light of a fire flickering through a window. Just before she could reach it, however, her legs gave away and the cold darkness surrounded and consumed her.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times to adjust to the bright, morning sun illuminating the snow outside. She looked up at a wooden ceiling, the sound of a fire crackling somewhere beside her. She took a deep breath and grimaced at the soreness that spread throughout her body. She then realized that it was probably a good thing that she could feel anything. She looked down at the layers of blankets swaddling her, thankful for the warmth they brought her. Liz sat up, pushing the coat and the blankets off of her and was immediately assaulted by the cold. She realized she was in her underwear. She looked around in anger, but saw her clothes hanging above the sink. She then noticed the clothes neatly folded on the chair beside her and the steaming mug on the nightstand.

She stretched the soreness out as best she could and promptly slipped into the clothes. She rolled the hem of the sweats and tucked the sweater into it, feeling swallowed by the large clothes. She put the socks on and quickly put the coat back on, rubbing her arms to recover from the renewed cold. She assumed that she probably looked ridiculous.

Liz reached over and took a grateful sip of the tea that had been left by the bed. She sighed contentedly as the warmth spread throughout her body, grateful of how thoughtful whoever had saved her was. She looked around at the cabin, taking in how small it was, but it was cozy. Well-kept and clean; functional and conceivably enjoyable as a vacation setting.

She slipped on her boots and got up. She then looked out the window, seeing nothing but snow and the trees. She walked outside, bracing herself for the cold. In the clearing, she saw a man facing towards the woods, a hand on his hip and another over his face as his head bowed. He seemed to have been in a deep moment of contemplation; his blond hair, combed cleanly, had a few wisps swaying in the wind. Liz drew closer to him.

"Hello?" She approached.

The man quickly turned around and seemed to gawk at her. His blue eyes were wide with what looked like shock and his jaw, framed by short, ginger scruff, hung slack.

Liz took another step closer. "Were you the one who brought me inside?"

She watched him take a step back from her, his eyes still showing surprise. He looked around and his attention caught a bird that flew nearby and into the trees. He stared for a few moments at where it went then back at her. Liz felt a little confused by how apprehensive he was acting, but there was no one else around.

"Are..you alright?" She asked.

The man cleared his throat and seemed to shake off his anxiety. "Uh..yeah..yeah that was me. Are you feeling better?"

She nodded, "A few bumps and bruises but nothing too bad."

He nodded in return, "Great."

She watched him, still a bit thrown off at how confused he seemed. She hoped he wasn't some backwoods creep who saved her just to do weird things to her.

"Do you mind if we talk inside?" She asked, jerking a thumb behind her towards the cabin. "It's pretty cold out here."

He turned back to the trees then back at her. He nodded and gestured for her to walk back first. Liz turned around and walked towards the cabin, hearing him step hesitantly through the snow. She went all the way inside and sat on the chair by the bed, reaching for the tea that she had left and sipping it. His boots thumped softly on the wooden floors as he grabbed a steaming mug from the counter and sat at the table to face her. He gave her a quick grin, but it faded back as his eyes seemed to be lost in thought.

"What's your name?" Liz asked.

Again, he hesitated, looking down for a few short moments until his cerulean eyes regarded her again.

"Liam."

"Liam... Thank you for saving my life, by the way. I'm sure I would've been a popsicle if you hadn't come along." She said gratefully.

"It's no problem." He said with a gentle smile. "You're sure you're okay? I didn't really get a good look at you - I just wanted to get you warm."

Liz felt herself flush slightly at the concern in his tone, as well as the thought of him seeing her body. She shook her head and he seemed to relax a bit at that.

"How did you end up here?" He asked.

Liz contemplated on telling him about the suspect that was chasing her, but decided against it. "I had an accident. Crashed on the road. I figured I couldn't make it to anywhere else nearby in the cold, so I went into the woods. I saw the signs and just..wound up here. Thanks for not shooting me, by the way."

"You were unconscious. Didn't seem like much of a threat." He shrugged.

"Do you have a phone I can use?" She asked.

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, sorry."

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Do you have a car or a radio?"

Again, he shook his head.

"No connections to the outside world, huh?" She smirked. "You running from something?" She joked.

He chuckled with a grin. "Just more peaceful out here."

"Seems like it." She sighed. "But I can't stay here."

"Not fond of the outdoors?"

"I don't have much time for a vacation right now." She said.

She stared at him as he nodded, looking at his drink. Now that they sat closer, she could see his features more clearly. He had a strong jaw accentuated by his beard, but seemed to wear a permanent scowl judging by the lines on his forehead. There was something about his face that was odd to her. His eyes seemed to pierce right through her every time he looked into her own, though they were often soft when he looked at her. They were deep blue hues that felt both unrecognizable and familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere, but the recollection escaped her.

"Look," she sighed. "I'm sure you saw my badge. My name is Elizabeth Keen. I'm with the FBI, and I can't just stay here sipping tea in front of a fire with someone I just met. Can you at least...tell me how to get to the nearest town or wherever I can make a call?"

He seemed a bit shocked by her words.

 _Did he expect me to stay here?_

After a moment of thinking, he nodded. "The nearest town is about ten miles west of here. It's easy enough to find if you follow the road back, but to do that, you gotta get around and over a ridge. I'm sure you must've passed it if you saw my sign?"

She nodded.

His brows raised. "Glad you made the fall then. Guess all the snow made it more of a hill than a drop."

"It was more of a roll than a drop."

He gave her a half smile and chuckled.

She continued cautiously. "Well...I'm sure you know these woods like the back of your hand. If it's not too much to ask-"

He held up a hand and interrupted her. "Look, I really want to help, but it's best if I stay here."

It was her turn to look at him with shock. After all the amenities he afforded her, she half expected him to offer to guide her back himself.

"Just head west of this cabin - there's a path you'll see just beyond the clearing. Follow it for about two miles and you'll see the ridge turn into a milder hill. From there you can head on up and find the road." He listed matter-of-factly.

"Alright then." She nodded slowly. "Thanks."

She shouldn't have thought he would go so far as to walk ten miles to guide her back. Having the directions and her life saved was already enough.

"Feel free to grab anything here before you go." He stood up, heading to his wardrobe and pulling out a duffel bag. "Be careful on that path though, it tends to-"

Suddenly, a shot rang out and the mug on the table shattered, spilling coffee all over the surface. Liz quickly dove to the ground as the wooden walls were pierced by a barrage of bullets, showering wooden splinters around the cabin. She covered her head and watched him as he did the same thing; staying low to the floor and trying to protect himself from the bullets, shards of glass, splintered wood, and the anything else that fell as objects were hit by the automatic fire.

As quickly as it began, the gunfire stopped. She watched as he crawled towards the window and she quickly followed. He leaned against the wall, gently moving the curtain aside and peeking through the corner of the window. She did the same beside him. A row of armed men positioned themselves in the trees, all aiming at the cabin. A booming voice, bolstered by a megaphone then erupted from the trees.

 _"We know you're in there! Come on out!"_

Liz turned to the man beside her. "Where's my gun?"

He breathed heavily, his blue eyes moving back and forth from the men outside to her demanding stare.

"What?" He said, not looking like he was paying much attention to her.

The megaphone beeped and she heard the voice come through again.

 _"You have five seconds to come out or we burn this cabin to the ground!"_

"My gun!"

 _"Five!"_

"Where the hell is it?!" She asked more insistently.

 _"Four!"_

All he did was stare back and search her face, his jaw clenched and his face showing how quickly his mind was moving. He looked away from the men and out the window in the back of the cabin. She figured that wasn't much of a way out as they were in a clearing and she wasn't sure how many were out there. Running wasn't an option, especially since she knew nothing about the area.

 _"Three!"_

"Wait here." He suddenly muttered as he quickly opened the front door and moved outside.

 _"Two!"_

Liz's jaw dropped as he faced the group with his hands in the air. "What the hell are you doing?!" She hissed.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" He yelled as he moved slowly out into the clearing.

 _"Give us the girl!"_

Liz watched as he slowly walked towards them, his arms still raised.

"Don't shoot! Let's talk about this, alright? No need for anyone to get hurt." He said calmly, still taking steps towards the men.

Liz watched tensely from the window.

 _What the hell is this guy doing?! He's going to get us killed!_

He made it closer to the treeline before the man spoke through the megaphone again.

 _"You take another step and it'll be your last. Give us the girl."_

She saw him stop moving, standing before a small army of men with automatic weapons. He held a straight stance, showing no fear or tension in his frame. Then he dropped his arms and took another step.

All at once, it happened. The men that had been shooting at them all dropped to the ground, almost in unison. Liz's eyes grew as she watched the scene unfold. However, one of the men was positioned deeper in the trees, and remained standing. Upon seeing his company fall without a fight, he aimed and fired at the other man. She watched as Liam quickly took shelter behind a tree and in one swift motion, pulled her gun from behind his back and fired two successive shots into the armed goon's chest, killing him instantly.

Liz quickly sat back down with her back against the wall, her mind racing at what she just witnessed. She looked back out and saw him searching the bodies of the assailants. Then it hit her. She couldn't believe that she didn't realize it sooner. The dead bodies, the white eyes.

 _He's that terrorist._

She quickly found it necessary to defend herself. As he was distracted, Liz found an empty whiskey bottle by the sink. She held it tightly in her hand and crouched by the door. When the door opened and he walked through, she quickly lunged at him, breaking the bottle over his head and making him stumble in pain.

"What the hell?!" He yelled as he held his head at the site of the blow.

Grabbing him by the front of his coat, she swept her leg and used his weight against him to knock him over onto his back. His eyes widened in shock as she quickly straddled him. She then punched him in the face, pulling a pained grunt from him.

"I know who you are, you terrorist!" She yelled in anger.

As she reared her fist back for another blow, he brought up his arm and blocked it. He then used his superior strength to roll her off of him and quickly held her to the floor, pinning her arms by her head as he kept her from moving.

"I'm not a terrorist! Just…" he grunted as she struggled against his grip. "Let me explain!"

Somehow, Liz brought up her leg and kicked him off of her. She quickly stood as he recovered and was about to charge into him with her fist when he pulled out her gun and aimed it at her.

"Stop!" He shouted, his blue eyes piercing angrily through her as he panted.

Liz stopped in her tracks, her raised fist opening and her other hand raising along with it.

"Just...let me explain." He repeated tiredly. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

"Doesn't look that way from where I'm standing," she retorted.

He looked at her, disappointed. His chest rising and falling as his breathing slowed back down to normal. He then sighed and Liz watched in surprise as the magazine fell from the gun, thumping onto the floor. He then released the round in the chamber and sent it clattering away before throwing the gun itself at her feet.

"Please." He said, his eyes soft as they peered into hers.

* * *

He watched as her demeanor changed from one of caution to one of confusion. She looked at the gun at her feet then back at him. He sighed in relief when her glare softened, waiting for him to continue.

"You said you know me." He began. "How much do you know?"

She looked at him hesitantly, but seemed to relax and trust that he wasn't going to hurt her.

"Ten months ago, 119 people were found dead in Washington D.C., all with white eyes and no apparent cause of death." She began.

He clenched his jaw as he realized just how many people he had killed.

 _119...That many?_

"Special Agent Donald Ressler was seen at every place with a death - security cameras, traffic cameras, eyewitnesses. Everywhere you went people died. You knew how the bureau worked so you went off the grid and you've been on the FBI's Most Wanted List ever since."

He nodded. He knew that much, but nothing else. And it didn't seem like he was going to learn anything else that he didn't already know.

"So? What's your explanation?" She said, trying to pull him from his guilty silence. "Are you gonna tell me you didn't kill all those people? You gonna tell me what I saw over there wasn't real?"

He took a deep breath and rest his hands on his hips. "All those people...the ones that died? ...That was me."

He watched as a tinge of rage flashed in her eyes, but she quickly corrected herself. She looked out the window at the bodies then back at him.

"I didn't know about it at first. I mean, I...I thought it was in the air...or...I don't know, a virus or something. I mean the birds were falling out of the goddamn sky, for fuck's sakes." He said, visibly upset at the recollection. "I didn't know about it..I mean, I didn't do it on purpose - I didn't even know I was doing it."

Liz watched, wondering how much of what he was saying could be believed. Though she doubted her instincts, she found nothing but remorse in his eyes as he stammered.

"It was like I was just sucking the life right out of them just by coming close." He continued, looking distraught as Liz stared at him with a look of both fear and distrust. "Look, I know it sounds insane, but it happened, alright? It happened; I mean, people would just walk up to me and…" he took a deep, quivering breath as his eyes tried to hold back the wave of shame and frustration that wanted to pour out.

"They'd just drop, they'd f-...they'd fucking drop." He looked at her, almost pleading her to understand as she stared back at him, her face not showing anything but suspicion. "Look, that's why you found me hiding all the way out here. I'm just trying to keep away from everybody."

"You're lying, this is crazy." She said in disbelief. "You have some kind of weapon, or device-"

"Keen, listen to me!" He yelled. "That was me. I killed those people. But...whatever it was, whatever was inside of me is gone now."

 _'Keen'? He's FBI, alright._

Liz shook her head slowly, ignoring her instincts of running to try and hear him out. "H-how do I know that? How do I know you won't kill me?"

He sighed and shook his head, his eyes peering into hers. "You're the first living person I've seen in almost a year. First one I've talked to. Look, whatever it is that's inside of me, it goes away when I'm with you."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, nobody dies when I'm close to you."

She stayed silent for a moment, digesting the information. "And what, I'm just..supposed to believe everything you say?" She asked, still in disbelief of what she's heard, but doubting herself.

He shook his head. "No. But based on what you've seen and what you've learned from investigating me, can you honestly see me as someone capable of killing all those innocent people willingly?"

He searched her eyes pleadingly as her instinct and her logic seemed to battle in her mind. He was relieved when she seemed to relax and believe him.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I can't stay here. I wish I could help but-"

"I'm not asking you to stay here." He interjected.

Her brows raised at his interruption, looking at him expectantly to continue. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a burner phone and a set of keys, extending them to her.

"Found these on one of those guys out there. You can call the bureau or whoever to let em know what happened and get yourself out of here but please.." he begged. "Please don't tell them about this place. Don't tell them about me. If they come here looking for me, they're going to die. And even if you want to arrest me yourself, at some point they're going to separate us and a lot of people are going to die."

She looked at him and sighed. She felt for him. From what she'd read about him during the manhunt, she didn't see anything that stood out as criminal behavior. He had apparently been a model agent and was known for strictly abiding by the rules. He clearly just accepted his life as it was now and tried not to hurt anyone. To see him in this state of isolation and being hunted down was pitiful. She accepted the phone and searched his face for any sign of malice. When she found none, she found herself wanting to help him.

"No." She said.

"No?" He repeated, his shock obvious.

"You're coming with me."

"Keen, please-"

She raised her hand to interrupt. "Look, you can't stay out here. Sooner or later, whoever sent that group out there is going to send more. It's not safe here anymore and I'm sorry that I led them here." She eyed the way his jaw clenched in frustrated understanding. "But I'm not going to turn you in. You can stay with me until we figure out whatever this...connection is between us."

His cerulean eyes widened and his mouth hung open slightly. "You'd be harboring a fugitive. You could go to prison just for talking to me."

"I know." She nodded, biting her lip. "But you saved my life. It's only fair that I help you get yours back."

He looked at her, his eyes looking both relieved and stoically resolute. He gave her a nod. "Thank you."

She gave him a nod of her own. "Thank _you_."

* * *

After packing clothes and supplies, Ressler led her out of the woods and found the road. They spotted several vehicles parked and hidden by the trees. They also saw the wrecked vehicle she had been in. He cringed as he thought about what she'd gone through before they met. The car didn't look like anyone who crawled out of it could be walking as confidently as she was right now.

They found a black SUV that responded to the remote on the key and promptly pulled into the road. Liz drove the car and headed for her house. She decided not to tell the task force about her situation yet, knowing that she would be called in to debrief and that she would have to bring Ressler with her. She gave him cursory glances as she drove, seeing the interest on his face as he looked at all of the things he hadn't laid eyes on for almost a year. He looked like a curious child and she found herself endeared by the thought.

They decided to ditch the car near the outskirts of the city, and took a cab the rest of the way home. They didn't want anyone finding an unmarked vehicle in front of her home and end up being linked to Richardson. Eventually, they made it to her home, and as she unlocked her door, she found herself looking around anxiously, paranoid that they would be spotted. They quickly made their way inside and sat in the living room, thankful to be stationary after an entire day of moving.

"Nice place you got here," he remarked, looking around the place with content.

"I'm glad you like it. This is where you'll be staying for the time being." She said as she walked into her kitchen and reached into the fridge. "Want a beer?"

"After ten months? Absolutely." He said eagerly as he followed her and sat at the counter.

She opened a bottle and handed it to him. Liz smirked as he drank half the bottle in one pull, sighing in content as the cold beer ran down his throat. He closed his eyes and held the bottle against the side of his head. He smiled when he opened them and saw her watching him. Then she winced as she noticed the dried blood that ran down the side of his face and the bruising from her assault. He was holding the cold beer up to it.

"I'm sorry I hit you." She apologized as she pulled a clean rag from a drawer and soaked it in water. "Let me clean that up for you."

She walked around the counter and reached towards his face to clean the wounds. He looked down at her face as it seemed to scrunch in concentration. He didn't feel the small wound on his head as she carefully wiped away the blood from his face. Ressler watched as her eyes seemed to dart towards his wound and back to his own eyes. When she was finished, she gave him an almost unnoticeable smile and was about to withdraw her hand until he caught it in his. Surprised, she looked at him, wondering what he was doing before he grabbed the rag from her hand and cleaned the cuts on her face. She startled a bit from the unexpected touch and now it was her turn to watch as his brows furrowed while he tried to clean her wounds without hurting her. His eyes were soft and seemed to absentmindedly avoid her own stare. She tried not to think about how close they were; tried not to count the smattering of freckles on his face and the way his full lips pursed in concentration.

Then as quickly as it took her by surprise, his hand dropped from her face, throwing the rag on the counter. He sat back on the stool and drank the rest of his beer. Liz stared at him as he closed his eyes and swallowed the beverage, his head tilted back and his throat bobbing. She shook her head and quickly made her way to the other side of the counter, chugging her own beer. She told herself that the flush that crept up her cheeks were from the cold.

"Thank you, again for this." He said, holding up the bottle. "And you don't need to apologize. Just remind me not to piss you off. Wouldn't wanna get my ass kicked." He grinned.

Liz smirked at him then cleared her throat, suddenly wary of making eye contact with him.

"Don't worry about it," she said, looking anywhere but at him. "Why don't you get settled in. The spare bedroom's the second door on the left upstairs. Across the hall is the bathroom if you want to take a shower - there's a closet in there with some towels. I'll order us some takeout. Thai food okay?"

"Honestly, anything I don't have to skin or pick from a bush would be amazing." He said gratefully.

She nodded and pulled the phone from her pocket. She dialed as she watched him grab his bag and head upstairs.

"Dembe? It's me. I need to talk to him."


	3. Chapter 3: Stick With Me, Kid

"Aram, any news on Agent Keen?" Cooper asked as the younger agent walked into his office and joined Samar and Meera.

"Uhh yes sir." He replied nervously.

Cooper raised an eyebrow as he waited expectantly, as did the other two women.

Aram cleared his throat and continued. "Highway patrol found a wrecked SUV in Prince George's County..Agent Keen's vehicle. The good news is, she wasn't in the car or near the crash site." He hesitated for a bit. "Well..I'm not exactly sure if that's good news. I mean, I guess it means she didn't die in the crash. Unless she did and someone took her. Or she survived and someone took her, which may or may not be worse than dying-"

"Aram." Samar said sternly, trying to reel him in.

He looked at her and nodded, apparently pacified by her soft gaze. "Umm, they also found several unmarked vehicles hidden by the trees. They're searching the woods now for anything out of the ordinary."

"When was Liz's car found?" Meera asked.

"Around ten in the morning." He responded.

Cooper nodded in understanding. "Have we heard from Reddington?"

"He says that Richardson just finished up an arms deal somewhere in New England two days ago, so we know he could be in the area." Samar replied. "Reddington's also overseas at the moment and says to keep him updated with finding Liz."

"Alright, Navabi, Malik. I want you two over at the crash site. Put together a search party for Agent Keen and try to figure out what those other vehicles are doing there." Cooper turned to Aram. "See what more you can squeeze out of Reddington and coordinate with ATF about that arms deal. If Richardson isn't with Keen, I want him found and I want him in custody. He might at least know where to find her."

* * *

 _"Lizzie, where are you?"_ Reddington's voice resonated through the phone. _"Aram says you were in an accident."_

"I'm fine," she replied.

 _"And Richardson?"_

"He's dead. Where are you?"

 _"Dead?"_ He asked, almost sounding disappointed.

"Yeah, dead. Now, where are you?"

 _"I'm just coming back from a rather titillating brunch with an old friend in Spain. Have you ever-"_

"No, I've never done whatever you're about to say." She interjected, annoyed at his casualty. "Listen, I need to see you now."

 _"It certainly sounds urgent. Where are you?"_

"Don't tell the others, but I'm at home. Meet me here now. I'll explain everything."

 _"I should be there by the evening."_ He said. _"Should I bring you a souvenir?"_

Liz rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. She sighed as she leaned back on the counter, crossing her arms and thinking about what she was going to say to Red.

 _Hey so I met a guy. He's funny, handsome, outdoorsy..oh and anyone who gets close to him dies instantly._

She figured Red would probably do most of the talking anyway. Liz then looked down at herself and noticed that she was still wearing the baggy clothes Ressler had given her. Not wanting to take the brunt of Reddington's wit, she headed upstairs and quickly changed into a sweater and jeans, absentmindedly throwing the clothes into the hamper. As she walked back out into the hallway, the bathroom door opened, and Ressler stepped out, wearing a clean flannel shirt and jeans.

"How was the shower?" She asked, expecting another comment about living in the wild.

"Great. I missed having water pressure." He said. "I saw some men's stuff in there. Do you…live with someone?"

"Oh, right." She scolded herself for not thinking about what Tom would say if he saw Ressler in their home. Thankfully, she wasn't planning on him meeting her new friend. "My husband, Tom. Don't worry about him, though, he's at a conference in Nebraska for a week. He's a teacher."

Ressler nodded and followed her downstairs to settle in the living room. By the time the food came, it was almost 5 in the afternoon. The two of them spent time on the couch watching various movies and eating. She showed him some of the big movies that had recently come out, and laughed at how he was entranced by all the new films. Liz didn't know what to think when she figured they'd have to spend a lot of time together, but now she knew it was pretty nice having him around. She didn't feel lonely and had someone to talk and laugh with. She was glad she could give him back the civilization he clearly missed.

* * *

"Okay, you're on." Aram announced to Meera and Samar through the phone to signal that Cooper was in the war room.

 _"We didn't find her."_ Samar said bluntly. _"But we did find some..interesting things."_

 _"There were three unmarked vehicles here, all SUVs."_ Meera began.

 _"While we were searching the woods, we found dead bodies, all armed and dressed like mercenaries."_ Samar continued.

"Richardson's men?" Aram asked, looking at Cooper.

 _"Likely. But Richardson himself won't be much of a problem anymore."_ Meera replied. _"He's dead."_

"Dead?" Cooper asked, surprised. "How?"

 _"That's the interesting part. There don't seem to be any wounds or bruises, and there doesn't seem to be a solid cause of death for any of the bodies."_ Samar informed them.

"So...where do we go from here?" Aram asked nervously.

 _"There's more. All of the men that died all had white eyes."_ Meera punctuated.

"White eyes and no cause of death?" Cooper sighed, looking at the board at the most wanted list. "Donald Ressler."

"But why would Ressler kill Richardson and his men?" Aram pondered. "He wasn't into arms dealing and drug trafficking, was he? There's no way he saw Richardson as competition."

 _"The men we found were surrounding a cabin and there were signs around the property telling people to stay away."_ Samar said. _"I think they found his hideout and he wasn't too happy with a bunch of men armed to the teeth dropping by. The front of the cabin was also riddled with bullet holes."_

 _"We counted twenty bodies here, but there were only three vehicles."_ Meera added. _"We're thinking Ressler took one and..."_ she trailed off.

"..Took Agent Keen with him…" Aram finished with anxiety.

"Is there any proof of Keen having been there?" Cooper asked.

 _"We found her clothes hanging above the sink - also covered in bullet holes. Although we couldn't find her gun, her badge, or her ID."_ Samar said.

"So we have a terrorist out there who managed to kill twenty armed men by himself and is holding an FBI agent hostage, along with having her credentials." Cooper said gruffly.

Aram looked away worriedly as the women stayed silent.

"Find me that vehicle." Cooper ordered.

* * *

After two movies, Liz felt herself getting drowsy. She blamed it on the food, the beers, and the comfort that was so rare for her. Upon seeing Ressler's head bob, trying to fight sleep for the third time, she was about to suggest heading to bed when the doorbell rang. He quickly became much more alert as she stood to answer the door. Liz opened the door to find Reddington standing at the doorstep with Dembe behind him. Red gave her a smile and held up some bags of Chinese food.

"I brought dinner," he said, walking past her and heading straight for the kitchen and depositing the bags on the counter.

Liz's eyes widened, a bit annoyed that he stopped somewhere to pick up something unnecessary, but still grateful that he was being thoughtful.

"We already ate," she said as she and Dembe trailed quickly behind him.

"'We'?" He asked as he put his hat down on the counter.

Turning around, his eyes widened when he noticed the other man standing in the living room.

"Ressler, this is—"

Liz's words caught in her throat as she turned around and saw Ressler pointing a gun at Reddington with an icy scowl.

"Raymond Reddington." He said bitterly.

Dembe pulled a gun himself and pointed it at the man he considered a threat.

"Oh, Lizzie.." Reddington said grimly. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"You know him?" Liz asked Ressler, shocked at the cold glare he was giving the older man.

"I'm not gonna forget the man I hunted down for more than five years."

"Lizzie, you may want to amend your welcome wagon," He said with a smug grin, looking at Ressler. "Considering you had me rush over here, and I had the courtesy to bring you dinner."

"This is the help you called for, Keen? A criminal on the most wanted list?" He spat.

Reddington scoffed, "Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black? I'm quite sure your little episode knocked me right out of the bureau's spotlight."

Ressler tightened his gaze, completely ignoring Liz and Dembe, who still had his gun aimed at Ressler's head.

"A lot of big fish went belly-up when you left this political swamp, Donald." He said smoothly. "You're quite the wanted man."

"That's enough!" Liz yelled. "Put the guns down." She glared at Ressler and Dembe.

"Lizzie, I'm sure you know about your new friend here. How we'd all be dead by now if he weren't suddenly so...flaccid." Reddington turned his eye towards Ressler. "Why is that, anyways? Run out of juice in the middle of the woods?"

Ressler's eyes grew in shock. "You knew where I was?"

"Of course. You kept an eye on me for more than five years - or at least you tried. It only seemed fair to return the favor. Especially since you've caused quite the commotion."

Ressler walked closer, his jaw clenched and his brows stitched tightly. The gun he held moved closer, only a few inches from Reddington's calm, smug face. Liz quickly stepped in front of him, holding the hand that held his gun.

"Ressler, please." She said calmly. "Right now, he's the only one who can help."

He looked down at her blue eyes, both resolute and imploring. Ressler was surprised at how quickly he lowered his gun after seeing that look. She nodded at him, seemingly thankful. He then noticed how close she was standing, and quickly took a step back, instead focusing his glare at the back of Reddington's head as the older man began pulling out boxes of food from the bags he brought.

"You know what's going on?" Liz asked Reddington, surprised then quickly berating herself for not thinking the man didn't know. He knew everything.

"I know what he's capable of. But tell me what happened to Richardson."

"He kidnapped me..but I got away...until I had an accident near the woods. I ran from him until he got too close to Ressler and he died. Ressler saved me from Richardson. From freezing to death and again when Richardson's men came after me."

"I see." Reddington said.

"So you understand? You'll help us?" She asked.

"What exactly do you mean by, 'us'?"

Liz took a glance at Ressler, who was staring grumpily at the floor. "I'm not sure how, but...we're connected. Whatever he has that's been killing people - it goes away when I'm near him."

She couldn't read Reddington's expression as he was turned away from them, but he stayed silent as he apparently took a moment to think.

"So," Reddington said suddenly. "What exactly is it you need help with?"

"We need somewhere to lay low. And for you to keep the task force off of us. They still think I'm missing, and I'm sure they still think Ressler is a terrorist."

"Do _you_?" Reddington asked, neatly piling the boxes of food.

"Do I what?" Liz asked.

"Do _you_ think he's a terrorist?" He asked as he turned around to face them.

She turned to see Ressler looking her right in the eye then looked back at Reddington, who stood smiling pompously.

"No." She said sincerely. "He saved my life three times and he did everything he could to stay away from people so that he wouldn't kill them."

"Wonderful!" He beamed. "Give me two days and I'll find you a place to stay. In the meantime, stay here. Make no contact with the taskforce and I'll keep them off your trail."

"Thank you." She said gratefully.

He nodded, glancing at Ressler then back at her. He stepped past them and put his hat back on, heading towards the door.

"We'll be in touch. Good night Lizzie, Donald." He promptly walked out the door with Dembe following him.

Liz sighed and sat on a stool by the counter, feeling drained by the interaction.

"How is it that you know Raymond Reddington?" Ressler asked, genuinely curious but she could still see a hint of anger in his eyes.

She looked at him, considering how much she wanted to to divulge.

 _Screw it, he's already a fugitive._

"Main Justice made a deal with him. His immunity for information on high value targets. I'm part of the taskforce that conducts operations to capture those targets."

Ressler scoffed. "Raymond Reddington's a C.I. for the bureau? You gotta be kidding me."

"Wish I was." She smirked. "He's certainly different from other C.I.'s I've worked with."

"I don't doubt it."

"Well, we should get some rest." She said, standing up and stretching. "Although, I'm not too sure we're going to have much to do for the next two days."

She began putting away the boxes of food in the fridge while he turned the TV off and cleaned up the plates they'd used. She felt oddly domestic about the situation, as if he was completely comfortable with the place. She then noticed his pensive face as he dried his hands with the towel on his shoulder.

"Something up?" She broached curiously.

He glanced at her and shook his head. "Nothing."

"You know I'm a profiler, right?" She smirked.

"Are you?"

"Yeah, and I can tell you've got something on your mind."

He sighed, knowing there was no chance of him hiding much from her at the moment. "Reddington."

"I told you, he's the only one who can—"

"I get that." He interrupted. "I'm not too thrilled about it, but I accept it. What I don't understand is why he wants to help me."

Liz began wondering that herself.

 _He's right. Red's got no reason to help him, except maybe...me._

"I mean, I hunted the guy down for more than five years. I made it my life's goal to put him away. And now he just agrees to help me just like that? I don't trust it…" he rants.

"Ressler…" she began apprehensively. "I've worked with him for a while now and from what I've seen in the past three years...criminal or not, he does good things too. We've stopped drug rings, human traffickers, terrorists…a lot of that good came from his intel."

She wasn't sure why she was defending him. God knows the man certainly wasn't a saint. But she somehow felt obligated to show Reddington in a better light than others saw him in.

"And in any of those cases, can you say that he didn't benefit from removing the competition of his criminal empire?" He argued.

Liz remained silent.

He sighed, his shoulders dropped and seemed to resign his venting. "Look, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It's just..hard to wrap my head around the fact that Raymond Reddington is my only chance at not going to prison and he does nothing to hold it over my head."

"That's your FBI training talking to you."

"Yeah, well, it's all I've got. I'd be an idiot not to listen to it."

"Hey." She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "You've got me too." She smiled.

He gave her a half grin and chuckled. "Give it time. You'll get sick of me soon."

"Oh, I don't know...You're not so bad." She said, nudging his shoulder.

* * *

Reddington sat solemnly in the back of his car as Dembe drove. He pulled out a phone and punched in a number.

"Baz. I need you to gather some men and watch over Elizabeth's home. Anyone comes in or out, you let me know." He hung up and sighed, leaning back on the seat.

"Are you going to tell her, Raymond?" Dembe asked, eyeing him through the rear view mirror.

"Not right now."

"She's bound to find out. And when she does, she won't be happy." The younger man stated.

"This is the only way to protect her." He said grimly. "For now, we do what she says."


	4. Chapter 4: Looking Back

Ressler stared at the immobile fan on the ceiling, its lights were cold, having been turned off hours ago. The room was barely illuminated by the gentle glow of the moon seeping through the blinds. He could hear nothing but the occasional cars driving by in the night and the almost inaudible hum of the heat coming from the vents.

As tired as he was from being shot at and having to walk several miles, he couldn't fall asleep. He had too much on his mind. Was he supposed to see this as a chance at getting his life back? Or was it just another sick joke that the universe was playing on him? He wanted to be hopeful; to have at least some shred of optimism, but after spending almost a year getting nowhere close to finding out what had happened to him and why it happened, it was just instinctual to accept his life as it was. It all felt like a dream. He shook his head.

 _No. This is real._

This was a way out of that life. A chance at something more than just hiding and being ashamed of what he was. It was a chance at the truth. A chance at redeeming his name. And it was in the hands of Raymond Reddington.

He laughed dryly to himself.

 _How ironic._

The criminal he'd hunted down and pursued so vehemently was now helping him. And the government he'd sworn his life to was now the same one labeling him a terrorist. In any situation he could imagine, however, there was no way he could fully trust him.

Liz, on the other hand...she was a different story. He didn't know how to look at it. He'd known her for about a day and already, he was standing in front of a firing squad for her. He tried not to dwell on it; tried not to let her see it, but the first moment he looked into those stone-blue eyes was like looking at something he'd lost. A familiar sight that greeted him cordially but faded right back into obscurity. It was so easy to trust her, no matter how much he expected his instincts to hold her at arm's length. He was an FBI agent. Trust was perhaps the most important and most dangerous thing he could have.

And yet, everything felt so natural with her. Everything they'd done since she brought him home - spending time on the couch, cleaning up after themselves, even helping each other with cuts and bruises - it's as if he'd done it hundreds of times before. It all felt normal. But the moment he gave it any thought, the moment he tried to grasp at the specifics, they faded away.

And god knows how or why _she_ trusted him. He may have literally fought for it...well, maybe she did most of the swinging...but she trusted him. She willingly accepted staying by his side and helping him through this. He told himself it was because he'd saved her life, but it felt so wooden to believe that wholeheartedly. There had to be another reason...

He groaned, pulling a pillow over his face.

 _Just go to sleep, dumbass._

* * *

"We've got something, sir." Aram said as Cooper descended from his office.

"This morning, ATF raided a warehouse in Mount Rainier, Maryland, and found various shipments of small arms and explosives, no doubt belonging to Richardson." Meera began.

"On top of that, we also traced one of the shipments to a house in a nearby town, Morningside, belonging to a Howard Grayson, which after some digging," Aram says with a smile. "Turned out to be…" he pulls up a picture of Grayson and one of Richardson side by side. "Mr. Michael Richardson."

Cooper nodded. "And Agent Keen?"

"Well, we found a setup in Richardson's hideout. Turns out, he liked to keep his men on a short leash." Explained Aram. "All of the vehicles had tracking devices and there were a total of eight tracked vehicles. Four of which were parked in a garage by the warehouse in Mount Rainier. Three were on the side of the road where Agent Keen crashed. And one…" He showed them a red blip on a map near the outskirts of the city. "Is right outside of D.C."

"And we're sure that there were only twenty men sent to that cabin?" Cooper asked. "None of Richardson's men escaped with that car?"

"There was a roster found at the hideout confirming twenty names that were sent to the cabin." Meera explained. "We're working on identifying the bodies now, but with the deaths and the white eyes, it's safe to assume that Ressler took the car."

"Get there, now." Cooper said to Meera. He then turned to Aram as she left. "Where's Agent Navabi?"

"She's meeting with Mr. Reddington. See what he knows about Agent Keen."

Cooper nodded. "Notify Metro P.D. to be on the lookout for Ressler but don't tell the media yet. We don't want to scare him off, but if he _is_ here in D.C., he might be planning another attack."

"Yes, sir."

"Keep me posted on Reddington." Cooper said as he strode away into his office. "I might have to have a word with DHS."

* * *

Liz closed her eyes as she let the warm water glide over her hair. The water felt amazing, as if it washed away the soreness and fatigue that had been clinging to her since her accident. She fell asleep as soon as she hit the bed last night, but it was a restless sleep and she woke up feeling worn and exhausted. She looked over the scabs and bruises that had formed over her arms and legs. She scolded herself for being careless, though they weren't particularly painful or bothersome.

She thought about Reddington, and how true Ressler's words were. She wasn't blind to the fact that the more Blacklisters they put away, the easier it was for Reddington to operate. He basically has the FBI at his disposal. What was he gaining from helping Ressler? There was no way helping a fugitive at the top of the most wanted list was a responsibility he'd want to take. Then she scoffed at herself.

 _Of course he has something to gain...A living weapon that could essentially take down an entire nation._

Her teeth grit at the thought. Using someone's curse for their own gain was heinous. She felt that Reddington doing so was questionable, but she didn't know him that well. Only what he allows her to know. Then she realized it.

 _Using Ressler as a weapon means nothing if we're not together. He'd be uncontrollable. We're a package deal now. And if that's the case, Reddington would be putting me in danger if he were to send us out as his own personal nuke._

The one thing she was sure about Reddington was that he was out to protect her.

Sighing in relief, she closed her eyes and let the warmth of the water envelop her body. Then her mind drifted to Ressler.

No matter how much she thought about it, she could see no reason as to why they're connected, or how they could be connected. How was it that she could be so crucial to someone she'd never met? Someone who could literally take him away from a life full of death. As much as she drove herself restless trying to figure it out, she could dig up no memories about him.

What astounded her was that she _knew_ there was something. There had to be. Because as little as she knew about him; as empty as her mind was when she looked for anything about him, something told her that she knew him. A feeling in her gut that told her that those looks had been shared before. That those touches had been there before. That that voice had been played for her ears before. And she was ashamed of it, but damn it, she had the feeling that the smell of his clothes had her breathing deeply before.

Liz smacked her forehead on the wet tiles and leaned against it.

 _Ugh just get out before you get pruny, idiot_

* * *

"Agent Navabi! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Reddington greeted cheerfully as she walked into the hotel room.

"Liz has been taken." She said gravely.

"Haven't we established that?"

"Yes, but not by Richardson."

Reddington immediately lost his air of humor and lightheartedness. "By whom?"

"Donald Ressler." She replied.

Samar watched as he seemed to consider the situation, his jaw clenching.

"Is she alright?" He finally asked.

"We're not sure...he's not really known for keeping people alive."

"What do you know so far?"

"Nothing to work with. He was in the FBI so he knows how to avoid us. We know he's dangerous, and we know he killed Richardson's men. That's it."

He nodded. "I'll see what I can do. Keep me updated on anything more you find about him."

"That's it?" She asked, almost angry.

"He's not exactly easy to keep track of, Agent Navabi. He knows what he's doing."

"Which is exactly why we need more than just, 'I'll see what I can do'."

Red surprised her by giving her a short laugh. "Rest assured, Agent Navabi, she will be found. And Donald Ressler will be...apprehended."

"If we _do_ find them, he's going into custody." Samar said sternly. "You're not killing him."

" _When_ we find them. And who said anything about killing him?"

"You're not saying it, but I've seen what happens to people who put Liz in danger."

Red smiled at her. "I would think you'd be the last person to want a fair trial for him, Agent Navabi. Given your history with terrorists."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just help us find them." She turned around and walked out of the door.

* * *

After stepping out of the shower and getting dressed in pajamas and a thin sweater, Liz exited the bathroom, drying her hair as she descended the stairs. Immediately, she was hit with the enticing smell of bacon, along with a sporadic beeping sound.

She entered the kitchen to see Ressler wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his back to her. He was trying - and failing - to work the coffee maker. She spotted a plateful of bacon and eggs and she couldn't help but smile that he had made breakfast.

"How the hell.." he muttered as he continued to press a bunch of buttons on the machine.

As soon as he said those words to himself, Liz could feel her mind wandering and suddenly she was in the kitchen of a small apartment. _Her_ apartment. From when she was still living alone and attending the academy.

She looked at the same man struggling with the contraption, its buttons beeping as he failed to get it to work. All happening in her old apartment.

Liz came to when Ressler turned around and greeted her.

"Hey. Mornin'. How the hell do you work this damn thing?" He gestured to the coffee maker.

She shook her head and smirked at him, walking over to the machine and pressing a single button. It immediately started gurgling and dripping hot coffee into the pot.

"Oh." He said, a little embarrassed. "Why's there gotta be so many damn buttons?"

She chuckled. "I honestly don't know what they do. Tom bought it. He's a bit of a coffee snob."

She then moved towards the cupboards, pulling out a few plates and mugs. Her mind went back to what she'd just experienced.

 _Was that a memory?_ _A flashback?_

She turned to him as she set the plates and the mugs on the counter. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

He looked at her, surprised by the question. "Sure. What's up?"

For some reason, she hesitated. His brow arched at her as she felt herself holding back. It wasn't much of a memory. And the thought of him doing something so domestic in her past was somewhat unnerving.

 _..It's probably nothing.._

She cleared her throat. "What do you know about this...thing? Other than the fact that it kills people?"

He looked down at the food he was spooning onto his plate, considering the question.

"Not much. It kills instantly with no warning; anything with a pulse. People could be talking or moving and then they'd just drop dead if they get too close. Birds just fall out of the sky, animals go limp." He said somberly. "I measured the range to be about fifty feet. And it's only ever stopped when I met you."

She nodded in understanding. "So, do I just have to be within fifty feet of you? Or do I have my own...range?"

"I think you just have to be inside mine. That's what it felt like back at the cabin."

She nodded in understanding as she filled her own plate.

"Who were those guys, anyway?" He asked.

"We've been looking for one of those high-value targets I told you about. Michael Richardson. He had his own criminal empire...that is, until you killed him."

His lips pursed as he drew his attention back to the food.

"Thanks for cooking breakfast, by the way."

He looked up and his frown turned into a grin. "No problem. I figured I should say thanks."

"Ressler, you really don't have to keep thanking me. You saved my life." She said as she nibbled on a strip of bacon. "All I've done is give you a place to stay."

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but decided against it and nodded.

"Alright, you can cook next time." He smiled.

"Oh no, you don't want me anywhere near the stove." She laughed. "From now on, you're in charge of the food."

* * *

After breakfast, they changed out of their sleepwear and sat on the couch, sipping coffee as Liz absentmindedly scrolled through Netflix.

"So what's the move now?" Ressler asked.

"We wait." Liz sighed. "At least until Reddington's found us a place to stay."

Ressler grit his teeth. He hated sitting around doing nothing. Now that he could go out and find answers, he felt impatient and anxious. It dawned on him that he had lived alone in the woods for ten months peacefully, but now that he was in civilization, he couldn't help but feel he _had_ to do something.

"You're antsy aren't you? Don't wanna wait to get back out there?" She asked with a knowing smile.

"That obvious, huh?"

"You don't seem like the type who likes to sit and wait when you can do something. And I can hear you grinding your teeth."

"It's been almost a year and I'm nowhere close to finding answers." He sighed. "I just...need something - anything - that can help me figure this out."

"What do you wanna do?" She asked earnestly.

He pondered for a bit then spoke. "Maybe I should go to a doctor and get some tests done? A scan or something?" He said, almost unsure. "I mean, is it even safe for you to be around me right now? I could be radioactive for all we know. Or I could be slowly dying and I don't know it."

"Well, we know none of the bodies died from the radiation, so I doubt it's that." She said. "We could tell the doctor you got hit in the head and we could pretend that you've been having trouble remembering. They'll probably give you a CT scan." She pointed to the wound she gave him on his head.

"Think it'll work?" He asked, sipping from his mug.

"It's worth a shot."

"What about Reddington?"

"He doesn't expect us to stay here and wait for him. He probably has people watching us." She said nonchalantly as she put her mug on the coffee table.

Ressler turned and looked at the window, though the curtains were drawn over it. Reddington had known where he was even when the FBI couldn't find him, so that seemed likely.

"If we're going to go out, you need a disguise." She said.

"A disguise?" He said, visibly cringing.

"Yeah. It's only been 10 months, people might recognize you as a terrorist." She replied. "Wait here." Liz got up and quickly walked upstairs.

She returned and sat next to him on the couch. She had a pair of thick-framed black glasses and a navy blue beanie in her hands.

"Oh, come on, isn't the beard enough?" He asked exasperatedly as he stroked his scruffy jaw.

"The beard's a good start, but we need to be safe." She glared at him, though he could swear he saw her mouth twitch into a stealthy smile.

He sighed taking the glasses and inspecting it. "These aren't prescription, are they? They're pretty thick."

"Nope. They're fake."

"And you have fake glasses because…?"

"Tom bought em for me. We like to ro—" She quickly stopped herself and looked at the floor. "Uhh..they were just...lying around.."

 _Is she blushing?_

Ressler narrowed his eyes and felt himself getting flushed when he realized the reason behind the glasses. "Oh."

She cleared her throat. "Put em on."

He complied, slipping the glasses on and staring at her with a blank face.

"How's it look?" He asked.

"Great." She smirked, seemingly satisfied. "Very Clark Kent. But put this on just to be safe."

She pulled the beanie over his head, adjusting it and pulling it back to show a bit of his hair in the front. She then leaned back and broke out into a smile.

"Be right back." She said suddenly with a chuckle.

Ressler sighed and almost rolled his eyes as she went up the stairs and came back down for a second time. As she sat back down on the couch, she took a picture of him with a smartphone.

"You have another phone?" He asked, surprised.

"You know how many times I've lost my phone on a mission?" She muttered as she looked at the screen.

She then held it up to show him. He grimaced at the sight of himself, eyes wide behind a thick pair of glasses, clearly surprised that she'd taken a picture of him.

The sight of Liz holding up a phone in front of him suddenly made him feel nostalgic. It was as if he was brought somewhere else; a comfy couch in a small apartment with dim lighting. The smell of takeout lingering in the air. Liz sat excitedly in front of him with a beaming smile, her phone held up to his face. Try as he might, he couldn't make out anything on the screen. Then as quickly as it happened, he was back, looking at the picture of himself in a bright, sunlit room.

"Ressler?" Liz said, waving the phone in his face. "You okay?"

Ressler focused his eyes on hers, snapping out of whatever he had just experienced.

"Uhh, yeah. Fine."

 _What the hell was that?_

Liz looked at him, clearly noticing something had happened but seemed to let it go.

"I asked what you think." She gestured to the picture.

He looked closely at the picture. "Jesus, I look like a hipster."

"It's not my fault you wear so much flannel." She laughed. "It's better than looking like a terrorist."

"Is it?" He stood up and took their empty mugs to the sink. "You realize I gotta take all this crap off at the doctor's right?"

"Well, you'll rock the look on the way there." She grinned.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but couldn't fight the smile that broke out.

* * *

"Anything from the vehicle?" Aram asked Meera on the phone as Cooper stood sternly beside him.

 _"Nothing. Not even prints."_ She sighed. _"It seems a little too obvious, but it looks like all we've got is that it's close to the city."_

"Obvious as in, he could be trying to throw us off?" Aram asked.

 _"Exactly."_

"But if he _did_ head into D.C., he could be planning another attack." Cooper surmised.

The three of them shared a moment of silence. With nothing much to go on and the possibility of a huge threat to such a big city, this was bad.

Samar then walked into the war room, her face showing the same disappointment the others were feeling.

"Anything from Reddington?" Asked Cooper.

"He says he doesn't know where Ressler is, but I don't buy it." Samar said. "He knows something and he's keeping it from us."

"Something about Ressler?" Aram asked. "Maybe how he's killing people?"

"I'm not sure. But he seemed like he wanted Ressler for himself."

 _"Who wouldn't want a weapon that can kill without much of a trace?"_ Meera added through the phone.

"Or he wants to kill him." Aram said anxiously. "For taking Agent Keen."

"Whatever it is, we need to find them before Reddington does. I'm not sure I wanna know what he'll do if he gets his hands on Ressler." Samar said.

* * *

"Tom has my car, so I think we should take the bus." Liz said as she wrapped a scarf around her neck.

"What? Why not a cab?" Ressler asked as he shrugged on his coat, "Shouldn't we avoid being around lots of people?"

"It'll be easier to blend in. Instead of having a cab driver focusing on us, we'll be surrounded by other people who are mostly busy with themselves." She stated.

"Alright. If you think that's best." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

The two headed outside, fully intending to start figuring out the situation they're in. The bus ride to the hospital was fairly uneventful, though Liz could see how paranoid Ressler was even with a pretty good disguise. Every time someone walked past their seats, he would turn away and look down. She felt sympathetic. He was clearly someone who was strong and confident, but he couldn't act like himself in public. Seeing this made her want to help him more. Not only was it an effort to learn more about her own past, it was an effort to help someone who was dealt a bad hand.

When they arrived, he seemed just as nervous in the waiting area. She saw him bouncing his leg, eagerly looking up every time a nurse opened the door and called out a name.

The atmosphere of the place didn't make things any better. The room, brightened by obnoxious fluorescent lights, was fairly busy. Several people were seated, awaiting their appointments, each engrossed in their own thoughts. Only inaudible conversations and the occasional cough and clearing of throats broke their contemplation.

"Hartwell?" A nurse called out as she opened the door. "Liam Hartwell?"

Liz almost didn't react at his alias being called, but he quickly stood and waited for her. The nurse greeted him warmly, but seemed a little confused that she was accompanying him. They were grateful that the nurse said nothing as she led them to a private room. Soon after, the doctor came with a knock and a friendly smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Hartwell." He said. "I understand you hit your head and you've been having memory problems?"

"Yeah. Got caught up in a bar scrap yesterday and I took a beer bottle to the head."

He wouldn't let the doctor see it, but Liz knew he was hiding a smirk as he flashed his eyes to her. She still felt bad about that one.

"Yikes." The doctor said as he examined the cut on his head and the side of his face. "Looks like you've got a bit of bruising here too. I don't mean to be rude, but...you don't look like the bar scrapping type." He tapped the side of his own glasses to indicate Ressler's.

"It was a uhh...misunderstanding." Ressler replied.

The doctor nodded. "Have you been having any nausea?"

Ressler shook his head.

"Any problems with your senses; your vision, smelling, hearing?"

Again he shook his head.

"That's good," He said as he scribbled on a chart. "Okay, well, since you're having memory problems, we can have a CT scan ready for you and we'll see if there's anything serious. Someone from Radiology will come get you in a bit."

"Thank you, doctor." Ressler said as the man walked out of the room.

He glanced at Liz, who looked back at him from a chair.

"You okay?" She asked.

He nodded and looked at the medical diagrams and posters on the wall. Clearly, he had a lot on his mind, but she figured now wasn't the time to talk about it. After a few minutes of waiting in silence, a technician entered the room and they were instructed to follow her to Radiology. There, they entered a room with a CT scanner.

"Go ahead and take off your glasses and your hat, please." She instructed as she looked over a clipboard.

Ressler gave Liz a look taut with anxiety and complied. Liz looked at the other woman nervously, praying she wouldn't recognize him.

"Okay everything's all set to go, so ma'am, if you could just step outside." The technician instructed, apparently not having recognized the man on the most wanted list.

"No, no she's gotta stay here with me." Ressler said worriedly.

"Sir, the scan is only gonna take a few minutes." She turned back to Liz. "If you could just step outside."

"I can't be in here alone." He said.

"Yeah, he gets claustrophobic sometimes." Liz said, rubbing his back with her right hand and taking his own in her left.

Liz was getting irritated with this woman.

 _We're trying to keep you alive, you idiot..._

"Okay, well, we have some medication we can give you for that."

"No, you don't understand, please. I—" Ressler pleaded.

"I'm sorry, you can't have anybody else in the room." The technician said sternly.

"Can I just go in the booth with you?" Liz asked the technician. "I mean, at the very least, he'll be able to see me."

The technician sighed and looked at Liz, then back at Ressler.

"Please." He said imploringly.

The technician's eyes seemed to soften at that and nodded. She then led Liz into the booth, where she began the scan. After a few keystrokes, she spoke to Ressler through an intercom.

 _"Okay, we're all set to go here, so just remember to stay still and we'll be done in no time at all."_ She said reassuringly.

The machine then began to hum and Liz watched as Ressler was moved further into the machine. She turned to look at the screen, watching the image swirl into what she recognized to be an x-ray of his skull. She also kept an eye on the technician, who seemed to run the scan as if it were an everyday procedure.

* * *

Afterwards, they waited several more minutes in the waiting area until they were called back in by the doctor.

"Good news, Mr. Hartwell, you're in perfect condition." He said with a smile.

Liz looked at Ressler as his brows creased in confusion.

"What? That's impossible.." he said.

"I assure you, Mr. Hartwell, the scan showed nothing unusual. Physically, you're in perfect health." The doctor explained. "As for the memory problems, I'm certain it's more of a mental issue. I suggest you see a psychologist and go from there."

Liz could see Ressler getting angry. His jaw was clenched and the look he was giving the doctor was fatal. Before he could open his mouth, Liz stood, placing a gentle hand on his chest.

"Thank you, doctor. We'll make sure to do that." She said with a smile, pulling Ressler onto his feet and heading towards the door.

The doctor nodded and gave them his own friendly grin. "Have a good one." He held the door open for the two of them.

They both walked out towards the waiting room and headed out of the hospital. The whole time, Liz could feel the frustration seeping out of him. She had her arm hooked through his and she could feel his arm tense through the wool of his coat.

Thankfully, they didn't have to wait long for the bus and they easily found two seats. As they settled for the ride home, Ressler had his hand squeezing the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut, his glasses lifted from his face.

"What a waste of time." He grumbled.

"I'm sorry." She placated, placing a hand on his. "I wish we could've gotten more from that."

"It's not your fault." He sighed. "Thanks for coming with me. I know you didn't really have much of a choice, but..thanks."

She smiled at him. She was irritated herself. They were back to square one and they both knew it. There wasn't really an obvious move to make outside of waiting for Reddington to find them a place to stay. And after that, what then?

To add more to their frustration, the bus was quickly getting filled with passengers. All of the seats were occupied, with several people standing in the middle of the bus, desperate to get to their destinations. She watched as Ressler tucked his head down between the two of them, paranoid that someone would recognize him. Thankfully, they'd made it to their stop without an incident.

"Come on," he said gruffly as he stood. "Let's get something to eat."

It was at that moment that Liz felt the familiar feeling from that morning. Her mind stopped and was taken to a different time - a different moment. She was sitting in an empty bus, the lights flickering overhead, keeping away the darkness of the cold night. Her eyes were glancing up at Ressler, who stood holding one of the bars. He was regarding her with a warm smile, his face cleanly shaven. When the bus hissed to a stop and the door swung open, Ressler jerked his head towards the exit.

"Come on, let's get something to eat."

Liz snapped out of her trance when the door squeaked as it closed. Several more people piled in, blocking the exit but her stomach only dropped when she looked through the window and saw the navy blue of Ressler's beanie outside. Then the bus began to move.


	5. Chapter 5: Paths Converge

"I just don't get it." Aram sighed as he closed yet another box of files and came up with nothing helpful.

"What?" Samar asked, not looking up from her own set of files.

"This guy graduated top of his class from the academy. Climbed up the ranks and led the investigation on Mr. Reddington." He explained. "Why would he throw all of that away?"

"Anyone can be terrorist." Samar said tightly. "No matter their background."

"Okay.." Aram said nervously, picking up on Samar's tension. "But...what's his motive? He doesn't really have anything to gain from suddenly killing all these people. And everything to lose."

"He's right. The man's squeaky clean. Not even a speeding ticket." Meera said as she plopped down an envelope full of pictures and more files. "Even Liz thought it was strange. She doesn't have a complete profile on him."

"Well, terrorist or not, it's our job to find him. But I doubt digging through these old files is going to give us anything useful." Samar sighed exasperatedly, leaning back on a chair.

"Well, terrorist or not, that's a tall glass of ginger ale I wouldn't mind a sip of." Meera smirked as she held up a candid picture of Ressler.

Samar could only roll her eyes as Aram laughed and shook his head.

"There wasn't anything useful from the CCTV footage or the security cameras that caught him?" Samar asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Nope." Aram sighed again. "If anything, he looks shocked in the ones that show his face. Innocent, even..."

Samar's eyes narrowed at him and Meera looked up from her pointless search as well.

"You think he's innocent?" The shorter woman asked.

Aram merely shrugged, not wanting to to make eye contact with either agent.

"Whether or not he's innocent, he's the only person around when this happens. We need him in custody no matter what. As a witness or as a suspect." Samar said plainly. "And we need Liz back."

* * *

"Keen!" Ressler yelled, banging on the bus as it began to drive away.

He picked up his pace, weaving through the crowds of people walking the streets as he tried to catch up to the moving bus. He could just see Liz through the side window, inaudible, but clearly distressed. She was squirming and trying to get past the people crowding the inside of the bus.

He moved swiftly and with agility, trying hard not to knock anyone over as he ran beside the bus. It wasn't the best way to avoid attention, but he had no choice. Apparently, the bus driver was either blind or apathetic. He was thankful that he could keep up with the traffic, as the bus wasn't moving at a particularly fast speed. Then suddenly, the bus began to merge away from him, heading towards the left-turn lane.

"Oh, fuck." He panted.

* * *

"Ressler!" She yelled through the glass, though she knew he wouldn't hear. "Shit, shit, shit." Liz muttered as she tried to squeeze through the loaded bus.

"Stop the bus!" She yelled over heads and shoulders, earning her several looks of confusion and irritation.

"No can do, lady! I'm late enough as it is." The bus driver said over his shoulder. "You're gonna have to wait for the next stop."

"Goddamnit." She cursed.

She then looked around frantically until she noticed the long, red cord hanging over the railings in the middle of the bus. She quickly reached up and yanked it, earning her nothing but more anxiety. The cord made no noise and created no change in the bus.

"Are you kidding me?!" Liz almost yelled at the people around her. "This cheap piece of shit!"

She steadily made her way back towards the window. Pressing her face against glass, she prayed he could keep up as the bus began turning left.

* * *

He merged into the streets to follow the bus through traffic. Ressler could feel his arms swinging as his feet hit the ground. His lungs clenched and unclenched as his throat went raw with air. Amidst the symphony of angered beeps and loud expletives, he raced across the pavement. He had to sidestep and evade several cars as traffic kept flowing. One cab almost ran him over, but he surprised himself by having the reflexes to jump back at the last second. He then burst back into a full sprint, having every intention to keep moving.

At some point, he felt the wind blowing freely through his hair. The beanie had fallen off somewhere onto the cold asphalt and he cursed himself as he kept running, though he still had the glasses, except he didn't know whether to be thankful or not as it bounced annoyingly on the bridge of his nose after every step.

Trying to keep close to the moving bus, he sprinted as fast as he could. He didn't dare look back, afraid of seeing crashed cars and white eyes. He kept his gaze on the massive, gaudy smile behind the phone number of some accident lawyer that was printed on the back of the bus.

As frantic as he was at that point, he felt his mind slow to a halt until he saw a bus moving away from his standing form. Its rear was decorated by a different advertisement, barely legible in the dark night and moving away into the empty streets. He watched it drive off, feeling his face lift with a warm smile that rivaled the cold air as his heart thumped with exotic glee.

Before he knew it, he was running again; the overcast skies held back bright sunlight and the streets were crowded. His heart pounded for a different reason and he realized that after almost four blocks of sprinting, the bus began to slow down. Despite his recent recollection, Ressler had a single thought in his mind.

 _Oh, thank fuck._

Even in his mind he was panting. He stepped onto the sidewalk alongside the bus as it reached its stop. Slowing down to a standstill, Ressler bent over with his hands on his knees. He breathed heavily as passengers stepped out of the loaded bus. He ignored the odd looks people were giving him, some loaded with irritation, and concentrated only on trying to catch his breath.

He didn't have a chance to think much about the flashback as Liz practically shoved her way out of the bus. As soon as she saw him hunched over, she promptly reached out and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry, Ressler." She said breathlessly into his ear. "I'm sorry."

She could feel his heart hammering against her as he embraced her. His chest was heaving and he was still clearly trying to catch his breath.

"It's okay." He exhaled, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "I'm okay."

He suddenly became very aware of his surroundings as he noticed people staring at them. He shifted away from her hold and gave her a look of warning, his eyes darting around them. She nodded and seemed to look around. Whether it was to confirm his suspicion or to look for a way out, he didn't know.

It was then that a black car pulled up beside them and rolled its window down. Ressler looked inside and saw a man with a gray ponytail beckoning to them.

"Get in." He said. "Quick."

Liz turned around and didn't hesitate to pull Ressler towards the car.

"One of Reddington's men." She told Ressler as they hopped in. "Hey, Baz. Why am I not surprised that you're here?"

He merely smiled at them through the rear-view mirror and began driving. Liz then turned to Ressler, who looked was looking down pensively.

"I'm sorry I didn't get off the bus..." she began. "It's just…"

He looked at her, searching her face with a brow raised.

"I've been getting these...I don't know...flashbacks?" She shrugged. "Like memories I didn't know I had. That's why I stopped."

His brows raised towards his hairline as he realized they _were_ connected in some way. They had to be if he was having flashbacks of her.

"I knew it." He blurted out. "I knew _you._ "

Liz stared back at him. "You did?"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

 _No better time to 'fess up._

"I didn't say anything, but back at the cabin...when I met you? I had this feeling—"

"That we already knew each other?" She finished, her eyes searching his. "So it's not just me."

His eyes widened as he shook his head slowly. "I've been having flashbacks too. I'm not sure when they were, or what they mean, but...you were there. In each of them."

He leaned back on the seat and sighed. "Guess this wasn't a waste of time after all."

"I _am_ sorry I made you run like that." Liz winced.

"It's alright. Probably the most exercise I've had all year." He chuckled.

She smiled at him then turned to the front towards Baz. "Has Red found us a place yet?"

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "You'll be picked up later tonight. For now, just stay inside, get packed, and try not to get yourselves or anyone else killed."

Moments later, they arrived back at Liz's home and Baz quickly left, though she was sure he didn't go far.

"So, what exactly did you remember?" Ressler asked as he walked in behind her, taking off his glasses.

He didn't hear her speak until he almost walked into her. She stood right by the entrance to the kitchen, her eyes wide with shock.

"Hey, babe." He heard a male voice say.

"Tom!" Liz said in surprise.

* * *

Reddington took a sip of scotch from a glass as he sat in the office of yet another business partner's reluctantly-entrusted home. As he savored the bitter sting of the alcohol, Dembe walked in, handing him a burner phone.

"Hello?" Reddington asked, eyeing Dembe.

 _"You were right, Mr. Reddington."_

"Of course," He laughed. "I trust you told them nothing?"

 _"Yes, sir."_

"Good. Now what did the scan tell us?"

 _"It's nothing I've ever seen before, Mr. Reddington. I'm not sure how to explain it myself. I'll be sure to send the results to Mr. Kaplan. Maybe you can find someone to figure it out."_

"Very well. Thank you, doctor." He said and hung up.

"Mr. Kaplan is on her way." Dembe said, his face calm but his eyes firm. "And Baz called. He says they are starting to remember things."

Reddington leaned back on the comfy leather chair, regarding Dembe with his own contemplative eyes.

"I see."

"You need to tell them, Raymond." He warned.

"You know I can't do that." Red replied grimly. "I need to protect her."

"It isn't right to keep it from her. And there are things she needs to know so that she can protect herself." Dembe argued calmly.

"She shouldn't have to." He shook his head. "The moment she finds out is the moment I've failed."

"What matters more to you? Your success or her life?"

"It wouldn't be much of a life. I'm not giving her back that pain."

"There is _only_ pain down this road you are paving, Raymond. Tell her where she's been so she may find her own way." Dembe began walking out of the room. "Perhaps in doing so, you may find yours."

* * *

Meera walked briskly to Aram's desk, holding up her phone. "Just got a call from Metro P.D. Someone called in a tip; says they saw Ressler hopping off the L2 bus and then chasing after it."

"Did they say what time?" Aram asked.

"Around noon." She replied.

Aram quickly turned to his computer and after a few keystrokes, pulled up images from the bus' interior cameras a few minutes before the time they were given. The footage showed several passengers boarding and leaving, and Cooper, Samar, and Meera stood behind him as they scanned the video. Aram played the video faster, fast-forwarding until they noticed Liz boarding the bus and finding a seat, along with Ressler and his disguise.

"She's okay!" Aram said in relief, smiling at the agents by his side.

As soon as Ressler glanced at the camera, Aram paused the footage and zoomed in, making the image as clear as he could.

"Oh, wow...that's really him." He said, almost fearfully.

"He looks like a hipster." Meera observed with a smirk.

"Keep playing it." Cooper ordered.

The footage resumed and they watched for several minutes as the two sat together. Eventually, they watched as Ressler stepped off the bus while Liz stayed behind.

"He just left her." Meera stated, confused. She leaned in closer to the monitor.

They then watched in shock as Liz acted in his absence. They had never seen her so scared. Frantically trying to stop the bus, Liz could be seen squeezing her way through the passengers. She then resigned to sticking close to the window for the remainder of her bus ride.

"Can we see outside the bus?" Samar asked.

Aram nodded and quickly switched the camera footage to the exterior recording. Sure enough, they watched as Ressler ran through traffic, trying desperately to catch up to the bus. They were as confused about his actions as those around him were, but the true astonishment came when they watched Liz shove her way out of the crowded bus and into the arms of their suspect. They stayed silent, not knowing what to say as Liz pulled Ressler into the car.

* * *

"I thought you weren't gonna be home for two weeks?" Liz asked.

"The conference got cut short. Something about changes with the staff." Tom replied, then his eyes turned to Ressler. "Who's this?"

Liz shared a worried look with Ressler before quickly recovering. "Oh, this is Liam. He's a friend from college. He just moved here to D.C."

"Oh." Tom kept his narrowed eyes on the other man. "I don't believe we've met."

"No, I don't think we have."

"I told him he could stay with us for a bit." She then pulled on a face of pity and put a hand on Ressler's shoulder. "He just separated from his husband." She then turned to him with a smile. "This is Tom."

Ressler did a quick double-take at Liz's words, but noticed Tom staring at him, so he quickly went along with it.

"Uh y-yeah, it's been tough. I've been trying to find a new place."

"I'm so sorry." Tom offered, visibly relaxed at what Liz said. "You're welcome to stay until you do."

"Appreciate it." Ressler nodded with a grin.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go upstairs and get settled in." He said, giving Liz a kiss on the cheek. He then turned to Ressler with a smile. "Nice meeting you."

"You too." The blond man replied as Tom shook his hand firmly and promptly headed upstairs. When he was sure Tom was out of earshot, Ressler turned to Liz. "Really?"

"I'm sorry, but I knew he wouldn't ask questions." She shrugged with her voice low.

"Yeah, and what happens when Reddington picks us up tonight?" He asked quietly, crossing his arms. "What are you gonna tell him then?"

"I'll tell him I've got a case and that I dropped you off somewhere."

Ressler sighed and shook his head. "Look, Keen, are you _sure_ you wanna do this?" His eyes searching hers.

She looked back with eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? Of course, what else is there to do?"

"You can walk away from this." He said bluntly. "Just drop me off in the middle of nowhere and walk away."

"Why would I do that?" She asked tensely. "We've finally got somewhere to start."

"Because you still have a life, Keen. You've got a job at the bureau, someone to come home to." His eyes softened. "I don't want you losing all of that because of me."

She couldn't help but give him a soft smile. "Thank you. Really. But this is part of my past too. I owe it to myself to find out what this is. And if I can help you on the way, then...even better."

He sighed and nodded, finally relenting. "Okay...as long as you're sure. I'm gonna head upstairs, take a quick shower, and start packing."

"Alright, I'll get packed too and talk to Tom."

* * *

Liz opened the door to the bedroom, smiling when she saw Tom lying on the bed. He looked up and gave her his own smile as she sat on the other side of the bed. "I'm glad you're back early."

"Me too. I missed you." He said, leaning in to kiss her.

She laughed at that. "You were gone for two days."

"Two days too long." He mumbled into her neck as he planted more kisses.

"Okay, okay." She giggled and gently pushed him away. "I'm really sorry, but I have a case later tonight and I can't stay home for long. I'm gonna drop Liam off at a friend's house."

Tom quickly pulled away. "Oh no, that's alright I told him he can stay here for now."

Liz smirked at him. "That's really sweet, but he doesn't wanna overstay his welcome. I told him he could stay longer, but I can't change his mind."

"Well, maybe _I_ can." He offered with a grin. "I don't mind having a guest. Besides, maybe having him around will give us practice for the baby."

Her eyes widened and she scoffed at him. "I really don't think a grown man is practice for a baby."

"Okay, maybe not." He chuckled. "But I _did_ get a call from the adoption agency this morning. They want us to come in for an interview next week."

Liz grimaced. "Oh…Tom, listen...I don't think now's a good time."

"What? What do you mean? You were practically jumping out of your pants before I left. Literally." He smirked.

"It's just...with work and this case right now—"

"Liz, I thought you wanted this?" Tom asked, clearly getting irritated.

"I do! Really, I want this! It's just..I'm not sure if now is the right time…"

"We already put it off three times, Liz, I'm starting to doubt that you do."

Before Liz could respond, the burner phone she had began to ring in her pocket. She gave Tom an apologetic look and answered the phone. "Hello?"

 _"Lizzie you need to finish packing and leave now."_ Red commanded. _"Baz is waiting outside."_

"What? What do you mean? I thought it was later tonight?" She asked, standing from the bed.

 _"Change of plans. The taskforce saw you and Ressler at that bus stop. They know he didn't kidnap you."_

Liz turned and looked at Tom, who seemed to be growing more irritated by the second.

"One sec." She told Red and then spoke to Tom. "I need to go."

"What?!" He shouted. "Liz, we need to talk about this! You can't just run off!"

"It's important!" She argued.

"And _this_ isn't?!"

She turned around and calmly looked him in the eye. "Look, I know this is frustrating but I _promise_ …" she placed her hand on his shoulder. "I promise we will talk when I get back."

He looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "Okay. Just...be safe."

She gave him a smile and a kiss. She then grabbed a go-bag from the closet and walked out of the room. She held the phone back up to her ear and spoke to Red. "Hello?"

 _"Trouble in paradise?"_

Liz rolled her eyes and ignored his comment. "Are they on their way here?"

 _"They'll probably be there in ten minutes."_

"Tom's here. What am I supposed to tell him."

 _"Just leave. He doesn't know anything between you and Ressler, so they won't get anything out of questioning him."_

Liz closed her eyes and sighed. She knew that the moment that Tom gets interrogated would be the moment that he loses the trust he has in her. But she had no choice. He doesn't know anything and likely would be released pretty quickly.

"Okay. Let me tell Ressler." She hung up and quickly walked into his room. "Hey, get packed; we gotta—Oh.."

Liz felt herself flush as she saw him wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, his hair still damp from the shower. He looked back at her, surprised, but continued getting dressed.

"Uh..sorry, I should've knocked." She turned back towards the door, forcing herself to look at anything other than his muscled chest and strong arms.

"It's fine." He said, putting a shirt over his head and pulling on his jeans. "What's going on?"

"The taskforce saw us at the bus stop. Reddington says they're on their way here so he's getting us out of here."

"Shit." He quickly threw his clothes into a bag, put his socks on, and slipped into his boots. "What about Tom?"

"He'll be fine." She said quickly, wanting to avoid another offer of letting him deal with the situation himself. "Let's go." She walked out of the room and down the stairs.

Not wanting to overstep his boundaries, he followed her silently and sat beside her as she got into the waiting car.

* * *

Tom watched from the window as the car drove away. He pulled out his phone and dialed, holding it up to his ear to await a response. When he heard one, he spoke.

"Hey, it's me. I found him."


	6. Chapter 6: One Step Forward

It took them the rest of the day to get to the safehouse. With traffic and the precaution of switching between several vehicles, the trip lasted until the late evening, during which they didn't speak much. Liz was too preoccupied with the situation she had with Tom, and Ressler felt it intrusive to ask her anything.

Reddington had sent them to an apartment in New York. Liz was thankful it wasn't as fancy or ritzy as she expected. It was a cozy apartment with two bedrooms and an open floor kitchen, fully furnished, and to their delight, the fridge and the pantry were fully stocked. The apartment was thankfully big enough to be spacious, but small enough so that they didn't have to worry about Ressler's range. Reddington had clearly thought of everything.

"You hungry?" Ressler asked from the fridge as Liz sat at the breakfast bar. "I can maybe whip something up."

"Starving, actually." She said as she watched him pull a few things out of the fridge.

He then looked in the pantry and pulled a couple more ingredients out.

"Spaghetti okay?" He asked.

"Spaghetti sounds amazing right now." She said with a tiny smile.

As she watched him move efficiently in the kitchen, she started having another flashback.

Instead of the quiet apartment they were in, they were in a brighter, smaller one; different from her old apartment. The sounds of a hockey game barely emanated from the living room while classic rock played softly, almost inaudibly in the kitchen. He had his back to her, keeping his attention on the sauce while she plucked a few cooked noodles from the colander and slurped them up.

"I'm not letting you profile me, Liz."

"Come on! It'll help with my class." She whined.

He scoffed. "You already know me, it won't help at all."

"Okay," she sighed dramatically. "It's fine...I'll just fail and end up homeless. Your couch is pretty comfy, so I guess I wouldn't mind that too much."

"Alright, alright," He chuckled. "Shut up and put this in your mouth." He held up a spoonful of sauce.

"You say that to all the girls?" She teased, opening her mouth and letting him slip some sauce between her lips.

"Keen?" Ressler asked, his hand still under a spoonful of sauce to keep it from dripping, eyeing her expectantly.

"Huh?" She was looking back at him as he stood in the larger kitchen with only the sound of the sauce simmering softly on the stove.

"You want a taste?" He asked, puzzled by her lack of attention.

She merely nodded and complied. As soon as the sauce touched her tongue, the familiar mouthwatering taste widened her eyes.

"Okay, we need to talk."

"That bad?" He asked with a wince.

"No, I've tasted this before."

"You have?" His brows raised.

"Just now, I remembered something." She explained, squeezing her eyes shut in a vain attempt to clear up her memory. "You were cooking the same thing."

"Do you know where?" He asked curiously.

"It was in an apartment. Not mine, though. Maybe yours?"

"Okay...what else?" He asked, shutting off the stove and pouring the cooked noodles out of the colander and into the sauce.

"I think…" she began. "I was still at Quantico. In the academy."

He nodded thoughtfully. "What else have you remembered? You know, before tonight."

She tried to think about all of her recent recollections as he pulled two plates out and put spaghetti onto them.

"Just like...little stuff. I remember you trying to work the coffee maker in my old apartment, and then we were on the bus at night and you suggested getting something to eat. And just now, you were cooking and I was asking to profile you for a class."

"I remembered you showing me something on your phone. And watching the bus drive away." He said as he held the plates and placed them on the nearby table.

Liz sat down across from him and dug into the food. She smiled as the familiar taste filled her mouth.

"Doesn't sound like much, but it's all we have." She said.

"So, what, we knew each other when you were at Quantico?" He asked as he spooled the spaghetti around his fork.

"I guess." She shrugged. "But every time I remember, it seems like we do something similar to trigger it."

He nodded in understanding as he ate. "You know what, I remember being in this mentorship program before I started hunting down Reddington. I bet that's how we know each other."

"I don't know.." Liz pondered. "Everything I've remembered so far...it didn't seem...professional."

"Oh?" He gave her a loaded look.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "I mean it seems like we were good friends. And honestly, from what I've seen since the cabin, I wouldn't be surprised if we were."

"I wouldn't either." He said with a grin.

They ate in companionable silence until Liz's phone rang.

"Hello?"

 _"Lizzie, turn on the news."_ Reddington's voice rang through.

Liz looked up at Ressler, who eyed her curiously. She then stood and walked to the living room to turn on the news.

 _"—spotted this afternoon in Washington D.C. and were seen together at a bus stop. Police warns that both Keen and Ressler were trained FBI agents and are considered armed and dangerous. The city is currently on high alert as law enforcement officers search for the terrorist and his accomplice…"_

Liz watched in shock as pictures of both her and Ressler were shown on the screen, as well as a clip of them hugging by the bus. She still held the phone up to her ear, though she could find no words. She felt Ressler walking up behind her, equally quiet.

 _"I hope whatever you two did out there was worth it."_ Reddington said. _"Perhaps you'll follow my advice this time and stay out of sight."_

He hung up, leaving Liz with nothing but stunned silence. She looked back at Ressler, who watched the screen with a cold expression.

"I think I'm gonna turn in." Liz said tiredly.

"What about dinner?"

"I don't feel like eating right now." She apologized. "Thank you for cooking, though. I'll go clean up."

She turned away towards the kitchen, but was stopped by his hand on her shoulder.

"Let me take care of it." He said.

"No, you've already—"

"Keen." He interjected. "It's alright. Get some rest." He looked her in the eyes gave her a gentle nod.

She gave him a ghost of a smile and walked towards her room.

* * *

"I told you, I don't know anything." Tom said, exasperated. "She told me he was a friend from college and that he needed a place to stay. That's it. I didn't know he was a terrorist!"

He had passed a polygraph and several prior rounds of questioning in an interrogation room across from both Meera and Samar. And they were getting nowhere.

"Did they say anything about where they were going? Maybe you overheard them?" Samar asked.

He sighed. "All she said was that she had a case to work and she left."

"How has she been at home?" Meera asked after a moment of tense silence. "Anything strange?"

Tom scoffed and leaned back. "You tell me. You've probably spent more time with her than I have this month."

The women shared a look, both suspicious of the man before them and apprehensive of learning something so personal about the colleague they'd worked with for years.

Behind the glass, Aram and Cooper watched as the two agents questioned Liz's husband. Aram watched anxiously, both hoping that Tom would give good information and hold out on them. He didn't want to accept the fact that Liz could harbor a dangerous terrorist who had killed more than a hundred people; couldn't believe that she was capable, but he also didn't want to be naïve.

"I share your concerns, Agent Mojtabai." Cooper broached.

The younger agent turned and looked at him with surprise. "Sir?"

"You believe Agent Keen to be innocent; that she's gotten caught up in something she didn't want to be involved in."

"I...I really doubt that Agent Keen would help a terrorist who killed more than a hundred people, sir…umm...allegedly killed."

Cooper eyed him seriously, taking his choice of words into consideration. "I'm sure everyone in the taskforce does. But there are still a lot of questions, and it's our job to find her and the answers to those questions. Can I count on you to do your job without letting your preconceptions cloud your judgment?"

"I…" he looked back into the interrogation room then he nodded and stared back at Cooper earnestly. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Whether or not Agent Keen was willing in aiding Ressler remains to be seen. There isn't anything concrete from what we have." Cooper said. "And don't worry. I'm prepared to give her the benefit of every doubt. She's earned as much."

* * *

Liz tossed and turned in her unfamiliar bed. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, she just couldn't sleep. Too much was on her mind. The news report had shaken her. She knew it would happen eventually, but it was still a shock.

She thought about Tom. What he was going through because of her, and what he thought about her. The last thing their marriage needed was to be separated by her life on the run. Top that off with her breaking her promise and possibly landing him in jail and she wasn't sure things could ever be the same with him. But how _could_ they go back to that? Was there even anything to say? 'Hey Tom, I'm back from my fugitive life with a suspected terrorist who might mean a lot more to me than I think! Wanna have a baby with me?' She groaned into her pillow.

At this point, the only thing she could even try to do was figure out her past, along with Ressler. And she had no idea how to start doing that.

It was then that she heard a shout and a muffled thud. She quickly grabbed her gun from the nightstand and rushed to the other bedroom. The door was cracked open with nothing but thin ribbons of moonlight streaming through the blinds to brighten the dim room. When she slowly pushed it open, she was relieved to see nothing but Ressler sitting up in his bed with his head in his hands. A lamp laid on the floor, thankfully unbroken.

"Hey." She said quietly, causing him to look up at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just...a bad dream." He sighed, pulling his legs over to the side of the bed and picking up the fallen lamp. "I'm sorry I woke you."

She shook her head. "I couldn't sleep, anyway."

Liz stayed standing, by the door. Her hand was still on the doorknob when he looked up at her in the darkness.

"Did you...wanna come in?" He asked, not sure what to do.

She stood still for a moment, feeling intrusive, but also not wanting to go back to her restlessness.

"You're not gonna go back to sleep?" Liz asked.

He looked at the clock that glared a bright red _2:52AM_ and shook his head. "I doubt I can."

She looked back out into the dark hallway then shrugged, walking towards him and sitting on the edge of the bed. She placed her gun on a dresser nearby.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that? I'm not the one knocking over lamps."

He gave her a half grin. "Fair enough."

"What was the dream about?"

"I, uhh…" He looked at her for a moment, searching her eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. "My fiancée." He finally said with a sigh. "This all started when I woke up to her dead next to me. Just...white eyes and cold hands."

Her eyes grew and her hand flew to her mouth.

"God, Ressler, I'm so sorry. That must've been awful."

"It was. Now every time I get close to getting some sleep, I just have this dream...and I'm turning her over again...and I see those dead eyes."

"I can't imagine what that must be like." She said, placing a gentle hand on his bare arm.

"So...what's keeping _you_ up?" He asked, wanting to get away from the topic.

"What isn't?" She said. "We're being hunted down by law enforcement, my husband was probably interrogated for hours because of me, we still have no clue what happened to us, and..." She took a deep breath. "I just don't know where we're supposed to go from here."

Just then, her stomach growled and she regretted not eating dinner.

"How bout the kitchen?" He chuckled. Ressler got up off the bed and pulled a t-shirt out of a dresser, slipping it on. "Come on, I could have a bite, too." He motioned for her to follow as he walked out of the room.

Liz smirked and padded behind him. He walked into the dark kitchen, pulled out the spaghetti from earlier and stuck it in the microwave. Meanwhile, Liz sat on the couch and flipped on the TV. After a few cycles in the microwave, Ressler deemed the pasta warm enough and brought some plates to the living room, along with some glasses of wine.

"Found this in the pantry." He said as he handed her a glass.

"Wine at three in the morning?" She asked amused.

"It's good with the spaghetti." He said as he raised his glass. "And we have more than enough reasons to drink."

Liz smiled and clinked her glass against his, then took a sip. She sat back and ate, glancing at Ressler, who drank his wine and seemed lost in thought.

"Can I ask you something?" He finally spoke.

Liz looked up at him expectantly, putting her plate down and sipping at her wine.

"What is it with you and Reddington? I mean, I get that he's a C.I., but...he brings you dinner, finds you safehouses...I've never had a C.I. like that."

"Oh..right." She said, sinking back against the couch with a sigh. "You remember when I said he turned himself in?"

He nodded.

"Well, he did it on my first day at the bureau. Said, 'From here on out, I speak only with Elizabeth Keen.'"

"You're kidding." Ressler shook his head and chuckled dryly. "I hunted him for more than five years, and you catch him on your first day."

"I'm that good." She joked. "Don't be too hard on yourself."

"No, no, I feel like I owe you a beer." He said with a grin.

"The wine will do."

After that, she decided to tell him everything she knew about Raymond Reddington; how she spent her whole career at the bureau figuring out why he came into her life. The death of her foster father, Reddington's protectiveness and knowledge of her past, and the way he'd come to the rescue when anyone from the taskforce was endangered by a blacklister. She could tell that Ressler wasn't comfortable with getting help from Reddington, so she tried to put him more at ease by telling him about the good they've done, classified details be damned.

They also tried to tell each other about themselves, in the hopes of triggering a memory. They learned a bit more about each other. He learned that she hated pancakes but loved waffles, not that he knew any real difference. Liz discovered that he preferred hiking and camping than going to the beach, and laughed when he claimed that five minutes in the sun made him crispy. Unfortunately, none of the things they recounted sparked a recollection, but it was nice for them to get to know each other. Eventually, they resigned to watching some old movies and finishing their food along with the wine.

* * *

"This is nothing I could've imagined, Raymond." The petite woman said as she eyed the scans closely. "You're sure these are his?"

"The doctor assured me. What is it, Kate?" He asked.

She showed him the scans, pointing to several blobs around certain parts of Ressler's brain. "You see these? They're tumors."

"My god…" Reddington said, astounded by the amount that littered the man's brain.

"He shouldn't even be able to see, much less speak or walk." Mr. Kaplan said, equally surprised.

Reddington stared at the scans, completely dumbfounded by the revelation.

"I suggest we scan him again. A full-body scan. We need to make sure there's nothing else. I'd also like Elizabeth to be looked over as well."

Reddington sighed. He looked over to Dembe and gave him a nod.


	7. Chapter 7: Two Steps Back

Ressler blinked his eyes open against the bright sun filtering through the blinds. His neck was sore and his back ached as he noticed he had been sitting upright on the couch. The TV played some black and white film, almost muted and the empty wine bottle stood proudly beside two drained glasses. He was about to get up and stretch his legs when he noticed the weight settled on his lap. Ressler's eyes widened when he saw Liz sleeping, a blanket thrown over her body and her head on a pillow on top of his lap.

Soon after, his mind drifted to a similar situation. He could hear birds chirping in the morning gloom outside and the old-timey dialogue of a Twilight Zone episode playing softly on the TV. He held her in his arms, the soft blanket around her frame as she absently clutched onto him. He then walked into her room and placed her gently on her bed, taking a moment to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before walking out of the room and quietly shutting the door.

"How cozy." Reddington said, turning off the TV.

Ressler almost jumped when he heard the deep voice, but his anxiety quickly turned to irritation as he saw Reddington standing smugly in the kitchen. He was ashamed that he had slipped in without them noticing. Instead, he bit back any smart remark that threatened to lash out at the criminal and woke Liz.

"Keen," He said gently, squeezing her shoulder. "Keen, get up."

Liz only responded by pulling the blanket around her tightly and burying her face into the pillow, muttering sleepily. Reddington's smug grin widened as he shared a look with Dembe, who stood behind him and had an impassive face.

"Lizzie, as much as I'd hate to interrupt your heavenly sleep, we have matters to discuss."

Ressler scowled at him and shook her softly.

With a sleepy groan, Liz sat up and rubbed her eyes free of sleep. She stretched her arms and yawned, stopping abruptly when she noticed where she had been sleeping. Her eyes darted from Ressler to Reddington and decided to keep the invasive thoughts from manifesting in her head. She merely cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

"What do you want?" She asked Reddington.

He held his pompous grin for a while longer before speaking. "To offer help, as usual. Mr. Kaplan wants to give you two a good once-over. See if we can't figure out more about this pesky condition of yours."

Liz scoffed. "Raymond Reddington wants to help me figure out more about my past?"

"I want to make sure you're healthy." He replied, almost too seriously, getting up and donning his hat. "Get dressed. Dembe and I will be waiting outside."

They walked out the door, leaving Liz and Ressler on the couch.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you." Liz said, a little embarrassed.

"That's alright. I'm glad you got some sleep." He shrugged.

She smiled and stood up, heading for her room. "We should get going."

Several minutes later, they were both fresh and ready, though they were a little surprised they had slept so late, as it was already almost noon.

Before they could walk out the door, Liz turned around and eyed him seriously.

"Look, I know we've done nothing but run and sleep for the past few days, and now you know about me and Reddington. I just..." She said. "I just hope you can still trust me."

Ressler was surprised. It was as if she could read his mind. He hated that he was barely getting anywhere with figuring out what happened to him and working with Reddington only made him more agitated. Though, she was only partially right, he smiled to himself when she'd acknowledged it.

"You're the only one I trust right now, Keen. And I know we're gonna figure this out." He said, handing her the gun she'd left in his room with a confident look.

* * *

Samar hung up her phone, shoving it in her pocket and shaking her head. "He's still not picking up."

"How convenient," Meera said bitterly, as the two of them stepped out of the elevator and into the war room.

They were quickly greeted by Aram, who looked at them nervously. "I, uhh… I found something," he said quietly.

The two women gave each other a look before urging him to continue.

"So we've found nothing to connect Agent Keen and Ressler so far, but I noticed we were only looking at the time _after_ she joined the bureau." He said, leading them to his desk. "So I did a little digging, and it turns out that Agent Keen joined this mentorship program. It wasn't really an official program sanctioned by the academy, more of an...after-school group, so it never popped up in our records, but there's a lot about it in old texts and messages that I found between the two of them. It was before she even joined the force...you guys don't think—"

"Aram." Samar interrupted, almost cautious. "We found something too."

He eyed them both, confused and tense.

"We just finished searching through Liz's home." Meera spoke. "We found letters. Correspondences between Liz and Ressler. They were hidden under the floorboards in a box along with passports, aliases, and different types of currency."

"Oh...well I guess that confirms it.." he said, almost seeming to be defeated.

"The letters seemed to be in code so it might take a while to decrypt them." Meera added. "But it _does_ seem like the possibility is getting more likely."

"I'm sorry." Samar said, placing a hand on his arm. "None of us want to believe it, but there's just too much evidence."

"I guess that explains why Mr. Reddington isn't answering." He nodded with a weak grin.

"He's been protecting Liz all this time. No doubt he'll protect her from us, too." Meera agreed.

They stood silently for a few moments, taking in the fact that the person they'd worked with for years, putting away high-level criminals and having each their backs, was involved in terrorism.

"Who else was in that group?" Samar asked, breaking the silence. "Maybe we could talk to them."

Aram grimaced as he showed several pictures of people on the screen. "Well, the group worked on a partnership basis, in pairs. I guess to simulate having a partner in the field. And there were five pairs including Ressler and Agent Keen. But from what I've found… all of the other members have gone missing…and Ressler and Agent Keen had no contact with the rest of them after getting together."

"They're missing?" Samar asked.

He nodded. "The bureau looked into it but nothing concrete came out of it. They all went missing during assignments, so it was assumed that they were either compromised or killed."

"Were they still in the group when they went missing?" Meera questioned.

"The group was only made for agents who had a little more experience and people who were either in or fresh out of the academy. That's why it wasn't an official thing. It was basically made for people to transition from the academy to the real thing, so there was an emphasis on keeping the experience levels as close as possible. Just so it was a little more comfortable for the newbies." His fingers tapped on the keyboard and an image of a flyer showed up, describing the program.

"And when the mentors got _too_ experienced, they left the group?" Samar inferred.

"Not exactly. So, in all of the pairs, the mentors had been working at the bureau for seven years when they went missing, along with the mentees. They didn't necessarily leave the group, they just...all went missing once they hit seven years."

"Who formed the group?" Samar asked.

Aram sighed. "That we don't know. There's no record of who posted the flyer. I just found it in their phones. The good news is, I've been looking into things at Quantico, and there doesn't seem to be a new group forming. So we can rule out someone outside of the group creating this program and hunting down other agents.

"Either that, or they got what they wanted with the first one." Meera suggested.

* * *

Liz and Ressler stood in a small room of a warehouse hidden somewhere in New York. Surrounded by cold concrete walls, plastic sheets, and exposed fluorescent lights, they had just finished getting full-body CT scans and they were glad to finally be out of the hospital gowns after several uncomfortable minutes.

"Maybe it'll be different for you." Ressler suggested as he buckled his belt.

"The doctor said you were perfectly healthy." She replied, pulling on her boots. "Do you want her to say I'm not?" She grinned.

"Of course not!" He chuckled. "I just mean, maybe we might finally figure something out about this."

"And if we don't?" She asked, suddenly serious.

"Then we keep trying."

* * *

"How are they?" Reddington asked Mr. Kaplan as she looked over their scans.

"The scan was accurate. He's got the same tumors in his brain." She said bluntly. "As well as what looks like scarring on his heart."

"And Elizabeth?"

She hesitated, giving him a calculated look. "I think it's time to start looking for answers, Raymond."

Reddington stared back, urging her to continue while his trepidation bubbled underneath.

Mr. Kaplan showed him Liz's scans alongside Ressler's. "She has tumors on her brain and scarring on her heart. In the exact same places as he does." She pointed to them in comparison as Dembe eyed the scans behind them.

"How is that possible?" Red asked grimly, unable to take his eyes off of the images.

"I don't know." She replied. "But _they_ might. If they could remember."

"I know you don't want her to remember, but it might be our only choice." Dembe advised, putting a hand on Red's shoulder.

He shook his head and sighed in controlled frustration. "Fine. See if we can make an appointment with the good doctor." He said to Dembe.

After he collected himself, Reddington walked towards Liz and Ressler.

"Who's up for a field trip?" He asked with a clap of his hands.

"What, another one?" Ressler asked tiredly.

"Oh, forgive me, do you have to be somewhere?"

The younger man only responded by narrowing his eyes at him.

"Where are we going?" Liz asked, rolling her eyes.

"Back to D.C."

Ressler couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You want to take us back to the city you just smuggled us out of?"

"Yes."

"For what?" Liz asked defensively.

"Not for what. For whom. A memory specialist. Doctor Selma Orchard. She can help you remember what happened to you." He said, looking at them both.

"Hang on, how do you know we've been having memory problems?" Ressler asked suspiciously.

"Baz told me." He replied matter-of-factly. "He also informed me that we only have until 6pm to go through the route we need to go through in order to get into the city. So unless there are any other questions…?"

Liz was a little surprised by the urgency. "Wait, what about the scans? What do they say?"

Reddington spoke plainly. "Nothing. Physically, you're both perfectly healthy."

The two looked at each other with disappointment as they followed Reddington and Dembe out of the warehouse. They didn't speak much in the car, as Liz felt suspicious of Reddington. It seemed out of character for Red to be so eager in having her remember her past, but she wasn't exactly against the idea. She also doubted that Ressler would object to remembering what had happened, but she still had a weird feeling in her gut about it.

* * *

"Is it set up?" Tom asked as he sat on a bench behind a woman reading a newspaper.

"Yes." She answered, not taking her eyes off of the paper. "We just need to wait until they're in position."

"Good." He nodded as he pretended to look through his phone. "And don't worry about the bureau, I gave em a goose to chase."

"What about your lovely wife and her friend?" The woman asked.

He rolled his eyes. "All the doubts are put to rest, alright? Just get it done." He promptly got up and left.

* * *

"Ow." Ressler whispered. "Those are my ribs, Keen."

"Sorry." Liz said quietly, pulling her elbow away as far as she could to keep it from hitting him again. "I'm starting to get a cramp."

"I think my leg's falling asleep." He said, squeezing his leg in a vain attempt to get the feeling back.

They sat back-to-back, tightly packed inside a secret compartment of a cabinet in the back of a cargo truck. They'd barely made it before the deadline and had been sitting uncomfortably for almost two hours. Red and Dembe were crammed into another truck that followed closely behind them.

Liz could feel his warmth on her back and she was scared he could feel the tension coming off of her in waves. He'd been quiet throughout the trip, and it only served to unnerve her even more as they approached the city's checkpoints. She didn't exactly know why she was nervous. She told herself that she was just excited about learning the truth, but it felt more like she was worried about what they would find.

"You okay?" She asked, attempting to derail her own train of thought.

"Yeah, you know, just a cracked rib. Ruptured spleen. Nothing big." He said dryly.

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Okay, tough guy."

"Are _you_ okay?" She heard him ask.

"Yeah…"

Liz felt like she needed a distraction. She wasn't exactly the best at handling tight spaces. She didn't get catatonic or panicky when it happened, but the thoughts floating around in her head weren't exactly helping the conditions.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" She said, maintaining her steady breathing.

"What's up?"

"What's the first thing you'll do when this is all over?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "Isn't it a bit early to be making those plans?"

"Humor me." She said.

"Okay, uhh…" he pondered for a moment, a little caught off guard by the question. "I don't know, I guess...I'd go for a run. Early in the morning like I used to." He then chuckled and shook his head. "I've been running this whole time, and I just realized that's the first thing I want."

"It makes sense to me." She shrugged. "You wanna run free. Not having to look over your shoulder while you're running. No worrying about people dying. What else?"

He grinned wistfully. "Get some groceries, take out the trash...maybe have dinner at a restaurant. Something...normal."

"That sounds nice."

"What about you?" He asked.

"Hmm…" she pondered. "A nice walk in the park. With a cup of coffee, maybe a muffin."

"Some real exhilarating stuff, huh?" He deadpanned.

"Yeah, real thrilling." She smiled.

They shared a laugh before settling in to wait out the ride. It was strange to Liz how the silence suddenly became comfortable; how easy it was to release the tension she had and fall into the rhythm of his breathing as she felt him inhale and exhale behind her. Though it was already pitch-black in the compartment, she closed her eyes to savor the moment. Listening only to the mechanical sounds of the truck and the rubber of the tires driving over uneven pavement, she basked in the feeling of a warm body nearby that rivaled the cold air seeping in from the outside.

Liz only opened her eyes when she felt the truck slow to a stop. The loud banging of the shutter door ascending reverberated in her ears and the truck seemed to quake around her. She looked around the inside of the cabinet as beams of light permeated the tiny openings of the compartment. Heavy footsteps reached her ears as the flashlight sliced through the darkness. Liz was holding her breath. She was fairly certain that Ressler was too, because she only felt the heat of a rigid back against her. No movement and no sound.

The footsteps drew closer and Liz clenched her jaw when she felt the cabinet open. With only a thin piece of wood blocking them from view, her eyes widened in concern. The light shimmered through the cracks as they stayed as still as possible. After a few eternities of anxiety, Liz almost yelped when the cabinet slammed shut and the light disappeared.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when the loading door closed and the truck started moving again.

"Jesus." Ressler muttered. "You good?"

"Lovely." She breathed.

* * *

Another half hour of potholes in the dark and they finally arrived. The truck dropped them off at some alley, hidden from any public view, illuminated by a single light perched atop a post.

"Hey, how's your rib?" Liz asked.

"Still breathing." Ressler smiled. "Listen, Keen, before we go in there...I just wanted to say—"

"Lizzie, may I speak with you?" Reddington interrupted.

She looked at Ressler, who gave her a nod and spoke. "It's okay. I'll be right here."

They walked towards the entrance of the alley, where Dembe stood guard.

"I realize that recent events have afforded you some time to form a bond with Donald."

Liz scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Look, if this is about this morning…"

"This is about your past. And how he fits into it."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know about what happened?"

"No." Red shook his head. "But I hope you're prepared for the possibility that those memories may not all be good ones."

Liz was surprised with herself. She'd never thought about the possibility that Ressler could've been a negative influence on her life. All of her recollections seemed harmless. But now that she thought about it, there was no reason to deny the possibility that he could be lying about his innocence. Or maybe he couldn't remember planning an act of terrorism.

She looked over at him, stretching his limbs and sorting out his back. She turned back to Reddington and searcher his eyes.

"What do you know about him?" She asked.

"I told you, I don't know anything about what happened to—"

"No, not about what happened. What do you know about _him_?" She pressed. "He led the investigation on your case. There's no way you don't know him."

Reddington sighed, his eyes moving past Liz and regarding the subject of the conversation. "He's driven. A good shot. Perhaps the only man I know who has no price. His morals are _annoyingly_ incorruptible."

"Do _you_ think he's a terrorist?" She asked him intently.

Reddington only gave her a silent look. "We'd better get going," he said as he walked towards the entrance.

Liz sighed and shook her head and walked back to Ressler, who eyed her curiously.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

"Yeah." She plastered on a half-hearted smile. "You said you had something you wanted to say?"

He gave her an unconvinced look, but seemed to move past it. "I, uhh...I just wanted to say before we go in there...thank you. For everything."

"Ressler, I told you, you don't have to keep thanking me." She grinned.

"Well, I want to. And I want you to know that no matter what we find in there, no matter what we remember, good or bad…" he looked her earnestly in the eyes. "I'm glad I met you."

Liz didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to think. And she didn't know what was running through her mind when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a warm embrace. She felt him freeze, clearly surprised by the act until he brought up his arms and hugged her back.

After a moment, she pulled back and gave him a soft smile. "Me too."

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed for evening." The secretary said with an apologetic smile. "Doctor Orchard's on her way out."

"Well, you seem like a diligent person, uhh…" Reddington motioned at her.

"Diane." She said, her eyes moving over the four strangers.

"Diane. Now, I know the good doctor likes to keep to her schedule, and she rightfully deserves to do so, but I'm afraid it's a bit of an urgent matter."

"I'm really sorry, sir, but the best I can do right now is to set up an appointment at a later date."

Just then, the doctor walked out of her office, bag and coat in hand, clearly prepared to head home.

"Doctor! Great to see you again." Red crooned.

The doctor's eyes widened and her grasp on her things tightened.

"Diane, why don't you head home." She said.

"Well, doctor, you told me to—"

"We can do that tomorrow." She said with a nervous smile. "Good night. And give Tony my best."

"Umm..okay….thank you, ma'am." She said, gathering her things and heading for the door.

"What do you want?" Doctor Orchard hissed.

"I have some friends here, who are in need of your expertise." He gestured Liz and Ressler.

"You want me to help them forget something? Absolutely not."

"Actually, they need your help remembering."

The doctor scoffed. "I told you before, it's not the same thing. I can't just—"

"Doctor, I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid we have insist."

Her eyes drifted to Dembe, who stood intimidatingly in front of the door.

Moments later, Liz and Ressler sat in chairs beside each other, strapped down. Monitors were attached to them, with sensors on their heads and necks.

"I have to warn you, my field is in blocking trauma. Extracting it, there are probable risks."

"Are the restraints necessary?" Liz asked.

She nodded. "I'm also going to give you sedatives. I'm going to use a combination of hypnotherapy and pharmaceuticals to put you in a lucid, waking dream state. The mind turns things off for a reason. I found that what the mind fights, the body tries to fight too." The doctor responded.

"H-hang on, a minute…I'm not sure I, uh…" Ressler stammered nervously.

He stopped when Reddington leaned over and whispered something in the doctor's ear.

"Don't worry, nothing I use is addictive. I need you both relaxed for your own safety." She assured.

Ressler looked shamefully at the floor, purposefully avoiding Liz's eyes, which grew in surprise.

"We'll start with you." The doctor said to Ressler.

He nodded.

The doctor attached an IV to Ressler's arm and proceeded to inject something into him. After a few minutes, Liz watched as Ressler's eyelids began to drop and his head began to sway.

"I want you to close your eyes. Now I want you to relax all the muscles in your body." Orchard said soothingly. "Pretend that you can float. As you float, all of the tension leaves your body. Tension floats too...but it floats away from you."

They watch as Ressler's head leans back on the headrest.

"Now I want you to breathe in...and out." He follows her, his chest rising and falling.

"All of the tension is floating away," she continues. "You can't even feel it anymore. All you can feel is yourself...making the image of yourself clearer and clearer. Focus on that image of yourself. Only it's not you today, it's you 10 months ago…you can almost picture him. That man, clear as day."

Ressler laid back, his eyes closed and his breathing steady.

"I'm gonna ask the man to open his eyes…"

His head rolled against the headrest.

"Are you ready?"

He groaned sleepily.

"Three...two...one..."

* * *

Ressler opened his eyes, yet the darkness remained. He tried to move, but restraints held tight against his arms and sharp pain made itself known around his abdomen. Then, as quickly as he realized it was there, a cloth hood was pulled off of his head and a blinding light assaulted his eyes.

 _"What do you see?"_ The doctor's voice echoed in his head.

 _"It's me."_ He responded. " _But I'm tied up."_

The moment he turned away from the light, a strong fist collided with the side of his face, followed by another. The assailant stood backlit by the harsh light, his voice garbled and unintelligible.

Ressler groaned as he took another punch.

"What do you want?" He grunted out.

Another set of distorted words were shouted at him, then a sharp pain was driven into his chest.

* * *

"What the hell is happening?!" Liz yelled as she watched Ressler shaking against his restraints.

The monitor's numbers began to rise quickly as he white-knuckled the armrests.

The doctor eyed Reddington harshly. "I told you this before, it's not going to be easy. These drugs might give him an arrhythmia."

"What else do we need?" He asked calmly.

"There should be an anesthesiologist or an ER Doctor here. I told you there are risks."

"This is our only move, doctor. We need you to take those risks."

Doctor Orchard clenched her jaw and plunged another needle into the IV. Almost instantly, Ressler calmed down and the monitor slowed it's beeping. She leaned over and spoke into his ear.

"What's happening? Tell me."

* * *

Ressler felt like he was floating and sinking at the same time. A gentle, cold prickling surrounded his extremities and he could see nothing but a blurry light framed by creeping darkness. He forced himself to move, but only managed to barely increase his field of vision.

"I'm on a table…" he said - or thought - he couldn't feel his mouth moving.

Silhouettes surrounded him as they moved efficiently, though it seemed to him that their silence was deafening.

* * *

"They're...all around me." Ressler said, his eyes still closed.

"Who?" The doctor asked gently.

"I-I can't see."

"Can you hear anything? Smell anything?"

Ressler then scrunched his face and chuckled, "Did you try to cook again?"

Reddington narrowed his eyes. "What's happening?"

"He might be having a tangent memory. His brain is trying to replace a bad memory with a good one."

* * *

"The damn light just burned out again." Liz said, her hand carefully removing the faceplate of the light switch.

"Liz, I don't think you should be digging around in there." Ressler walked into the apartment and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. "Why don't you call your landlord?"

She scoffed. "I have a better chance of winning the lottery than I do trying to talk to him. I just put this bulb in yesterday, it's gotta be something with the wir—"

Her sentence turned into a yelp when the bulb exploded above her, showering shards of glass all around her.

"Shit! You okay?" Ressler asked worriedly.

"I-I think so. I can't move." She looked down at her bare feet surrounded by fragments of the broken bulb.

"Uhh...okay, let me uh…" Ressler looked down at her, before stepping close to inspect her situation.

The glass crunched under his shoes as he lifted her up and placed her away from the hazardous area. She looked up at him, his body still close to hers.

"Thanks." She cleared her throat. "You know you could've just...handed me my shoes."

Liz pointed to the shoes in the corner of the room.

"Uhh, yeah...I guess I could have." He rubbed the back of his neck.

They looked at each other for a moment that felt a little too long, before she smiled and stepped away to grab something to clean up the mess with.

* * *

Liz found it strange to watch as Ressler's face changes so quickly from a warm smile to grit teeth and clenched eyes.

"What is it?" The doctor continued. "What do you see?"

"Don't worry, you'll be out soon." He spoke through his teeth. "And you won't remember." Ressler began to settle softly into the seat.

Then, just as quickly as he relaxed, he began convulsing violently. The monitor beeped erratically as he gasped and shook in the chair.

"Shit." Liz said worriedly. "Is he okay?!"

"Okay. We're done. His blood pressure's too high. He's in V-tach." Doctor Orchard grabbed a needle pierced him in his shoulder.

Ressler opened his eyes wide, still gasping breathlessly as he looked around the room at the others. The doctor worked to unstrap him from the chair in order to help him calm down.

"What is it? What did you see?" Reddington questioned.

Ressler sighed, pressing his hand to his head. "Nothing...I couldn't see anything. I could barely hear anything. It was like something was blocking everything I saw."

Redington shook his head. "That's a shame. Perhaps Lizzie might remember something."

"What?" Ressler's head shot up. "No, no, you're not putting her through that."

"Donald, you don't understand—"

"No, _you_ don't understand." He said, agitated. "I'm not going to let you put her through that."

He glared at the older man, who regarded him in turn with a cold look.

"Ressler…" He turned to see Liz beside him. "It's okay."

"Keen, listen, I—"

"You need to let me do this." She said, her eyes searching his.

With much reluctance, Ressler sat back and watched as Liz went through the process he had gone through moments ago. He was still shaking off the effects of the drugs, but when she fell into that dream state, he forced himself to be alert.

* * *

"Why are you doing this?" Liz asked tiredly, her head strapped down, along with the rest of her extremities.

She was covered in sweat, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. She felt absolutely exhausted and couldn't find the energy to do what she really wanted and scream at the person in front of her.

"I'm sorry." The voice said, just barely understandable. "I wish I could do something."

* * *

"What do you see?" Doctor Orchard asked.

Liz's eyes remained shut as she spoke. "Wh-what are you doing? What is this?"

The four of them waited, watching as the semi-conscious woman's head rolled gently to the side.

* * *

Liz couldn't help but succumb to the gentle touch on her head. It felt cold against her skin, and she couldn't do anything to keep it away. She watched with the side of her eye as the person drew near, a lab coat hanging off of their shoulders.

"Please…" she whispered.

She felt a sharp sting to her neck and her vision began fading. The last thing she could just make out was a badge clipped onto the lapel of the coat.

* * *

The monitor beeped rapidly as Liz writhed violently in the chair.

"Do something!" Ressler shouted at the doctor.

The doctor took another needle and plunged it into Liz's shoulder, just as she had done with Ressler. They waited a few second, but her conditioned remained the same.

"What's happening?" Reddington asked anxiously.

"She's not responding to it." Orchard said. "She must be remembering something traumatic."

Without thinking, Ressler moved towards Liz and held her shoulders. "Keen, listen to me. You need to come back, alright? Come back."

"Be careful! She has to come out of it herself, or it could be damaging!" Orchard warned.

She seemed to struggle in his grip, though her convulsions began to wane. Liz moaned sleepily, her eyes clenched shut and stress was clearly still overwhelming her but the beeping began to slow down. Ressler held her steadily, his hands rubbing up and down her arms.

"That's it, Liz, come back to me." He whispered comfortingly. "Just follow my voice. Come back to me."

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Dull and weak, she stared at his worried eyes.

"Thank god." Ressler smiled as he kneeled by the chair.

Both Red and Dembe breathed a sigh of relief behind him while the doctor unhooked Liz from the machines and freed her from the chair.

"Did you see anything?" Orchard asked.

"I saw a badge." She said, pressing against her eyes to relieve the pressure.

"A badge for what?" Asked Reddington.

"I don't know. But she had a lab coat...Doctor Alice Karlsen."

Moments later, they were getting ready to leave, though both Liz and Ressler stopped to speak with the doctor.

"Thank you for your help, doctor." Liz told her gratefully. "I know you weren't exactly willing, but we appreciate it."

She merely nodded. Orchard then spoke to them seriously. "You said there might have been something blocking your memories?"

"That's right." Ressler said.

"It's entirely possible that someone may have done something to manipulate or block your memories." She looked at them both. "We've only peeled off a few layers of those obstacles, but in doing so, it might be possible that more of those memories will come back to you in time."

* * *

It was dark when they stepped out of the building. The cold night air was back and the streets were somewhat empty. A few cars drove by, but they didn't pay much attention to them. Liz felt ecstatic. She was glad Reddington's warnings weren't really necessary. Not only that, they finally had a solid lead to follow. It was going to be difficult to find her without the FBI's resources, but she was confident that Reddington could get it done.

As Reddington and Dembe entered the car, Ressler stopped and stayed outside to speak with Liz.

"Keen, listen." He began in a hushed voice. "I know we've got a lead to pursue, right now but I've gotta tell you something."

She looked at him, still a bit dizzy. Whether it was from finally picking up a scent on the trail, or from the remnants of the drugs still in her system, she didn't know.

"What is it?"

The last thing she expected to hear was the sound of a motorcycle, its engine roaring as it neared them. She turned around under the illumination of the street lights and saw what looked to be a daisy, beautifully inscribed in black ink that glided seamlessly across the inside of a slender, pale arm. She heard a loud bang and suddenly the tattoo was stained with crimson streaks, before it disappeared into the darkness.

Liz turned to Ressler and saw him clutching his chest, his back against the car and his cerulean eyes wide with shock, regarding her with pain. His shirt bloomed with a sinister red stain as he slid weakly onto the ground, mouthing a silent apology.


	8. Chapter 8: Pushing Up Daisies

Ressler felt his heart beating quickly and his head spinning. Sweat plastered his blond hair to his forehead as he lay flat on his back. He squinted up at the bright lights above him and tried to shake off the ringing in his ears. Catching his breath, he leaned up on his elbow and rubbed his sore jaw.

"Nice move." He grinned.

"You taught it to me." Liz smiled, offering a hand and helping him up off the canvas.

"If you did anything like that during your test, they'd be idiots not to pass you." He said, holding apart the ropes so that they could exit the ring. "Plus, you've worked your ass off all year."

"I hope so." she sighed as she dug a towel out of her bag and wiped the sweat off her face. She then pulled another one out and tossed it to Ressler. "I don't know why, but I'm still nervous."

"Trust me. You'll be fine. Wouldn't be surprised if you were at the top of your class."

He nudged her with his elbow and savored the look on her face when she smiled. He then brought the towel up to his face and wiped away the sweat.

When he opened his eyes again, his head was swimming. His eyelids were heavy and he could just barely hear her saying something he couldn't understand. The sounds going into his ears were sharp and tinny. He struggled to focus on her, feeling nothing but pressure on his chest and a sharp pain as she pressed against the wound; a warm hand softly slapping his clammy face, which was quickly starting to feel cold.

His entire body was cold. An icy numbness was starting to claim his limbs, working its way up from his fingers and toes, leaving his muscles feeling heavy and useless. The sharp tone in his head grow louder and louder before it was quickly followed by a cloudy darkness that brought him down to a gentle unconsciousness.

* * *

"No, no, no, no!" Liz yelled, slapping him repeatedly on the face as she kept a scarf on his wound. "Ressler!"

"Check his pulse." Reddington instructed from the front seat.

She put two shaky fingers up to his neck. "I-I feel it. But it's really weak." She turned to the older man. "How much longer?!"

"We're two minutes out." He said calmly. "I've got Mr. Kaplan and a medical team waiting." He turned around and watched as she nervously studied Ressler's ashen face. "He'll be alright, Lizzie. He's a fighter."

Whatever she was thinking, Reddington didn't hear it. He didn't have to. Her lips were quivering and streaks of blood painted her cheeks, left behind by her wiping away tears. He knew exactly what she was feeling.

True to his words, they soon arrived at the site of what seemed to be an abandoned building. Liz walked promptly behind the gurney that carried Ressler, pushed by a team of medics wearing masks and sterile gear. They wheeled him into a room covered in plastic sheets with various medical technology that Ressler was immediately hooked up to.

"Elizabeth." Reddington said, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her towards a wall lined with a few chairs. "All we can do now is wait."

She followed him silently, her legs feeling wobbly and her heart beating fast. She felt a strange feeling. A feeling that weighed her down so much that she could barely speak. She felt weak and helpless. Completely and utterly afraid.

Red sat beside her, putting a hand over hers, which she squeezed with as much strength as she could muster. He looked at her, but only saw the side of her face, dried blood on her cheeks as she stared at the silhouettes behind the plastic sheets.

"Why don't you get yourself cleaned up?" He asked. "Perhaps get something to eat."

"I'm not leaving him." She said in a broken voice. "I have to be here when he wakes up."

She knew he was giving her a look that seemed cold and calculated, as was his usual gaze, but all she felt was pity and a projection of futile hope. She'd seen that shot. Felt the warm, sticky blood gushing out onto her hands. How quickly the color drained from his face. _Surely Red employs only the best, right?_

She shook her head and tried to distract herself by looking around the building. It was old and lifeless. The bare skeleton of something that was once bustling with life. Worn-down walls surrounded them, as well as exposed wires and vents on the ceiling. None of it screamed, 'hospital,' other than the fluorescent lights and the tiles on the floor.

Liz looked over when Dembe approached them and handed Reddington a phone.

"I've gotta take this." The older man squeezed her hand and gave her a gentle look that seemed to hide a strong resolve. "We're going to find who did this."

He promptly stood and followed Dembe as he exited the building, leaving her in the chair.

She felt herself shiver. Whether it was from the lack of heating or the dire situation, she didn't know. She did, however, realize that she'd felt that way before. Weak and cold, anxious and scared. Holding out through the night for someone fighting for their life on a hospital bed.

* * *

Liz eyed a doctor from her seat as the woman swiftly walked past her. She felt her shoulders droop when she realized she would probably have to wait a little longer for any updates. She sat in the waiting room of a hospital, her nails rubbing at the armrests nervously and her foot tapping against the carpet. There were only a few people sitting around. Fortunately, there weren't that many emergencies that night. Too bad one of them had her sitting there.

"Hey," Ressler said, standing beside her, his brows stitched with worry.

She sniffled and spoke with a weak voice. "Hey. Sorry I had to cancel."

"No, don't be." He said, giving her a sad smile. " _I'm_ sorry I didn't get here sooner."

He sat down on the chair beside her and her misty eyes could only look at him. He still wore his suit, his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone. His hair was a little less controlled than usual; probably saw some action at work.

"What did the doctor say?" He asked.

She cleared her throat, "She, umm… she said he had a stroke. He's in the ICU right now. But they haven't told me anything else."

He sighed in response. He then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze, running his hand up and down her arm. "He'll be okay. I haven't met him, but if he raised you, then I'm sure he's tough as nails."

Liz nodded at that. He was right. She laid her head on his shoulder, thankful for his reassuring presence.

"It's early." She sniffled as she glanced at a clock hanging on the wall. "Shouldn't you still be at work? Or maybe you should be at home…getting some rest. You look like you've had a long day."

She felt his shoulder rise a little as a chuckle rumbled out of him. "I'm right where I need to be, Liz."

Liz smiled a little at that, already feeling some of the anxiety go away. Soon after, she felt her eyelids drooping. Though shivering from the air conditioned room, the adrenaline from her nerves was coming down and the comfort from Ressler being next to her was pacifying. Eventually, she let her eyes close.

She was pulled from sleep when she felt his shoulder gently nudging her awake. "Liz."

Still half-asleep, she could feel something warm draped over her frame. She pulled it tightly against her and buried herself into the crook of his neck. Her eyes remained closed as she relished the intoxicating scent of his aftershave; his arm wrapped around her waist as his hand rubbed up and down her side.

"Liz, wake up." He said again gently.

Her eyes finally fluttered open and saw that he had pulled his suit jacket over her, shielding her from the cold. She looked up at him and gave him a grateful smile. He gave her his own grin then gestured his head in front of them.

Before them stood the doctor, and upon realizing this, Liz quickly got up.

"How is he?" She asked worriedly, holding onto Ressler's hand.

The doctor gave her a gentle smile. "He's going to be okay. You can go see him now, if you'd like."

Liz sighed in relief, wiping away some tears that had formed in her eyes. "Thank you so much, Doctor."

"What'd I say?" Ressler said with a smile, squeezing her hand.

She smiled back, looking up at him endearingly. "Let's go see him."

He looked back at her, his brows rising in surprise. "You...want me to go with you?"

"Of course. You said you'd never met him, so...how bout we change that?"

* * *

Liz awoke from her daydreams when a loud, relentless beeping sounded throughout the building. Her heart started racing as she stood from the chair and rushed towards Ressler, who was surrounded by the medical staff. They huddled over him, working energetically as Liz's breath began to grow heavy. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her throat clenching as she hyperventilated to the tune of Ressler's blood pressure dropping. She could feel tears streaming from her wide eyes as she kept them trained on him.

 _No, no, no….please, no…_

It was then that Liz realized why it hurt so much to see him in such a state. She'd been a little troubled by how quickly she took to him. Despite him being a stranger who lived in the woods and radiated death, Liz saw him as someone she wanted to help. At the time, she chalked it up to gratitude; being saved from hypothermia and Richardson and his men, she wanted to pay him back. Save him from his lonely 'life'.

And yet as she stood there, she knew exactly why she was crying and why her heart was beating out of her chest. All of the memories that she was remembering pieced together her past. A past that she was ashamed to have forgotten, manipulation be damned. She had always felt that something was missing in her life.

She thought that Reddington was the key to finding what that void was, suddenly coming into her life and clearly having every answer she needed about her past. But she quickly found out that he brought more questions than answers and more danger than safety.

Liz knew that there were too many mysteries in her life. Too many blanks to fill. But standing at the doorway of the makeshift E.R., she realized that having Ressler with her filled in the biggest blank. Her mind didn't focus on Reddington. It didn't focus on the taskforce or the work she did. It couldn't even focus on Tom. All she could focus on was Ressler. All she wanted to do was help him. Because she thought that maybe he could help her. She hoped that he could. She couldn't think of anyone else who could. Only he could fill that unmistakable void in her life. Only he could make her see things differently. And that was the last thought on her mind as a heartbreaking, flatline tone filled her ears.


	9. Chapter 9: Keeping Promises

Liz sighed when she felt her stomach growl. She leaned against the arm of her couch, watching some show without paying much attention to it. A little irritated, she pulled out her phone and just as she had found the name in her contacts, she heard knocking. She quickly padded across the living room and opened the door.

"Where have you been? I'm starv—" Her annoyance quickly disappeared when she laid eyes on him.

Ressler stood at the door with takeout bags and an apologetic grin on his face, along with cuts on his jaw and a large bruise under his right eye. The most glaring injury was a gash that cut diagonally across the bridge of his nose. He looked completely disheveled, his tie loose and his clothes dusty.

"Sorry I'm late." He said, quickly moving past her and heading towards the kitchen with the food.

"What the hell happened to you?" She quickly followed him, annoyance returning with his nonchalance.

He glanced at her and took off his suit jacket, laying it on a chair. "Uh...bad traffic."

"Bad traffic? Really?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "I know you didn't get all these cuts at Wing Yee's. God, you probably scared the crap out of them."

"Yeah. Bad traffic." He gently rolled up his sleeves, revealing more scrapes and cuts on his arms, and started pulling food out of the bag. "I got your favorites. And..." he pulled a bottle of wine from the bag and displayed it proudly. "What do you think? Some dumplings to settle your stomach; some wine to settle your nerves?"

"Don." She crossed her arms and frowned at him angrily.

He sighed and placed the bottle on the counter. "I was chasing after a perp today...and the car flipped…"

"What?!"

"I'm fine, alright? And we caught him, so…" he shrugged and unwrapped his chopsticks.

"You should've called or texted me! You could've gotten hurt!" She shouted, ignoring the food. She was _not_ going to let him shrug this off.

"I didn't want you worrying more than you already are. And the medics let me go, so really, it's nothing serious. It looks worse than it is." Ressler gave her a placating grin.

She sighed, still a little irritated, but relieved he wasn't badly hurt. "You couldn't have gotten 'em to clean up your face before you left?"

"I didn't want to be late. Because knowing you, you probably haven't eaten all day, have you?"

"...No..." she admitted, looking away. "Too busy trying to distract myself…"

He raised a brow at her and shook his head with a smile. "I'm sure you aced it."

Liz then rolled her eyes and pulled open a drawer in the kitchen. She grabbed a first aid kit and ordered him to sit before her.

"No, Liz, come on, you don't have to do that. I'll take care of it when I get home."

He stopped talking when she gave him a cold, intense glare. One that he'd only seen when she was completely serious. He relented with a sigh and braced himself as she dabbed one of his cuts with disinfectant. In turn, he held a dumpling with a pair of chopsticks up to her mouth and smiled inwardly when she ate it.

"I don't want you bleeding all over the apartment." She mumbled around her food.

She finished patching him up after he had fed her half a box of dumplings.

"There. All done." She sighed. "You're pretty again."

"Oh?" He chuckled, making some of the paper stitches and bandaids on his face move. "You think I'm pretty?"

Liz narrowed her eyes with a smile as she put the first aid kit away. "When you're not being a stubborn idiot, yeah. Now how 'bout you make yourself useful and pour me some wine."

"Yes ma'am." He smirked.

Ressler walked towards one of the cupboards and opened it. As he reached up to grab some glasses, he couldn't help but groan, a sound that didn't go unnoticed by Liz. He placed the glasses by the bottle, clearly avoiding his eyes from her scrutiny. As he reached for the wine bottle, Liz jabbed a finger into his side and watched in shock as he recoiled his arm and shut his eyes. His jaw was clenched and he exhaled, obviously trying to stifle the pain that wanted to make itself heard.

Once the pain evidently subsided, Ressler sighed and finally met her eyes.

"Let me see." She said, arms crossed and eyes lethal.

He blinked at her.

"...Can't a guy get a drink before you rip his clothes off?" He gave her a charming grin in an attempt to disarm her annoyance.

"Don, I swear to god..." She snarled through her teeth.

He sighed again, hesitantly pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. She moved his shirt out of the way and gasped as she beheld his torso.

A giant purple bruise stretched down his right side, just below his chest. Liz saw that several more scrapes marred his skin and she was dumbfounded that he could even move around as much as he could.

"You didn't even see a medic, did you?"

He remained completely silent.

Wordlessly, she buttoned up his shirt. She then went to the living room to grab her purse and her keys and headed towards the door. Over her shoulder, she looked at him with fire in her eyes as he stood still in the kitchen.

"Get your ass in the car. We're going to the hospital."

* * *

Liz thought about their past together. She suddenly remembered the lecture she gave him on the way to the hospital, how he sat quietly as she yelled at him about taking care of himself. It didn't take long in their friendship to realize that they were both horrible at taking care of themselves, so they took on the role for each other. It was an unspoken agreement. He took care of her and she took care of him.

But standing there in front of his pale, unmoving body, her own face streaked in his blood, she realized that she had failed him. She looked at his prone form, shirt ripped open and stained crimson, with a sinister wound on his chest. She knew she couldn't keep the promise that she'd tacitly made. She'd failed to take care of him. Failed to save him.

He was an innocent man, afflicted by a terrible curse and the world saw him as nothing but a ticking time bomb. A traitor who turned his back on the people he swore to protect. A monster.

But now she knew who he was. Remembered who he was. He wasn't just a mystery to solve. He wasn't a problem to get rid of. He was someone she would fight for. Someone who would stick by her through thick and thin. Someone who would risk his life and gladly put himself in harm's way to save anyone who needed saving. He was her best friend.

And now he's gone.

Liz stumbled towards the operating table. She stole a glance at the metal basin beside the operating table. Within it was a puddle of blood and the bullet that did the damage.

Completely ignoring the medical team that was quickly packing away the equipment, she finally let herself fall apart. Broken sobs wracked her aching chest as she gripped the edge of the table tightly. Through blurred eyes, she looked at his cold, ashen face.

His eyes were closed and he held no expression. The lines that often graced his forehead were gone and his face was heartbreakingly relaxed. It killed her that he looked completely peaceful. That it took death to achieve something he so clearly deserved.

Liz summoned the strength to reach out to him, before grasping his hand. It felt heavy and motionless, and as she brought it up to her face, she could feel her breath catching. She curled his fingers closed, squeezing tightly as she gave his knuckles a kiss before shutting her eyes tightly. Her heart was pounding and her head was throbbing; it was as if all the air suddenly left her lungs. She then began to feel the pain radiate throughout her body until it was all she could feel. Before she knew it, she felt herself slump over as her mind drifted away into darkness; firm grasp still around his hand.

* * *

Ressler woke and saw nothing but pitch blackness. Groggily, he tried moving his arms, but found them mostly unresponsive, lying heavy on what felt like firm leather. He felt surrounded by gentle rumbling and realized the unmistakable feeling of a moving vehicle. He was in the backseat with a cloth hood on his head, clawing his way out of unconsciousness and comprehending the cold that snuck its way inside the vehicle. Ressler tried to move, but found no luck, save for small movements in his extremities.

When he regained more control, he realized that he could feel warmth in his hand. A refuge in what felt like nothing but cold darkness. He tried to squeeze, and found the sensation spreading from his palm and intertwining with his fingers.

"Don?" He heard Liz's voice, clearly trying to pull herself from sleep.

Before he could react any more, the car slowed to an uneven stop. He could just hear the sound of dirt and crunching leaves under the tires. He then heard the front doors of the car opening and closing, before the one beside him opened.

A tight grasp claimed the hood on his head and pulled it off abruptly. He suddenly found himself lying flat on a table on his back, eyes exposed to obnoxious fluorescent lights. Squinting away the invasive brightness, he tried to recover his grip on reality. His chest felt beaten and raw, his head felt like it was about to split apart, and his throat was dry and tender.

He somehow found the strength to sit up, leaning up on his elbow and squeezing the bridge of his nose to regain some semblance of stability. It was then that he noticed that the arm he was leaning on ended with a hand covering his own. He followed it and found Liz, slumped over the operating table, her hair draped over her face as she lay completely still.

Ressler took another look around the room made of plastic, and what he saw shocked him. Several more bodies, dressed in sterile gear, were on the floor. Medical equipment lay scattered, broken and abandoned amidst the motionless forms.

"Oh no." He said breathlessly.

Fueled by fear, he reached over and tightly grasped Liz's hand. She felt cold and immobile.

"Liz!" He croaked loudly, his throat still recovering.

He got up on unsteady legs, using the table as an anchor, and made his way towards Liz. He pulled her down to the floor, onto his lap and held her. He then moved the hair out from her face, his eyes widening at the blood that stained her skin.

"Liz!" He called again, slapping her face lightly.

Desperately, Ressler reached his thumb up and opened one of her eyes. And suddenly the shock and pain that was dominating him disappeared. Her eyes, though dull and unresponsive, were still hypnotically blue. He realized that he could feel her pulse under his fingers. Her chest rose and fell. She was alive.

"Liz, wake up." He said gently, still cradling her in his lap.

After a few moments, she began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, though only for a moment, as she apparently felt the same splitting headache that he had when he woke. Squeezing her eyes shut and putting a hand to her head, she tried to adjust to the pain. When she looked up and saw his relieved face, her eyes widened and she quickly reached up and took him into a tight embrace.

"I thought I lost you." She said with a broken voice.

"I'm fine." He said, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

She sniffled and nodded at him with a smile. He cleared his throat and let her off of him, looking around the room.

"What happened here?" He asked. "I remember getting shot...and...everything after that is fuzzy."

"You…" She hesitated, trying to find the words. "You died…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed and unblinking.

"Your heart stopped." She explained. "And then...I'm not sure what happened. I passed out, and when I woke up…" she gestured to the bodies that lay around them.

Ressler approached the medical staff and felt his breath catch when he saw white eyes.

"Shit." He whispered.

Then he remembered, looking up at her in realization. Something he had to tell her before he was shot.

"Where's Reddington?" He asked urgently.

"Umm…" she mumbled, still recovering from her fluttering headache and throbbing chest. "I don't know. He stepped out to take a call." Looking around, she found a room void of life, except for the two of them.

"Liz, listen to me...Reddington knows more than he's letting on."

"What? How do you know?"

He continued in a hushed tone. "I saw him...when Orchard dug around in our memories. He was there. I couldn't hear anything he was saying but...he was there. I'm sure of it. I didn't want to say anything while he was around."

She exhaled, looking around to see if the man was nearby. _Red's not telling me something? I wouldn't be surprised._

"He might be involved in whatever happened to us." Ressler said, finding his bloody coat, which had been tossed aside onto a nearby chair, and draping it over his ruined shirt.

Liz regarded him with eyes full of concern and nodded. "Let's see if there's anything we can use here."

Liz looked around the nearly packed-up room. She decided to search the bodies, hoping they'd have a phone or car keys. What she found instead chilled her to the bone.

As she inspected one of the corpses, she saw a horrifying, familiar sight. The silky black lines that converged together to form a daisy; the same deceptively beautiful tattoo that brought about one of the most painful moments she'd ever gone through.

And it was worn by someone Reddington trusted enough to be in his emergency medical staff. Ressler's memories put Reddington at the forefront of suspicion. He's probably the most astute person she knows. Either he didn't know about the assassin, which she doubted but couldn't rule out, or he did. Which was a terrifying thought. Because it would mean that Reddington could've been behind the attempt.

Liz had about a million thoughts flying around in her head. Before she could put any of them together and voice them, however, a loud bang erupted throughout the building.

Turning towards the source of the sound, they knew they were in trouble. They knew that sound; remembered the noise of a battering ram as it would breach an entrance and signal the beginning of a raid.

"Oh, fuck." Ressler voiced.

He then pulled Liz's hand towards the other side of the building, away from the sounds of the jackbooted agents making their way towards them. What they didn't expect was an encore of the loud bang echoing from where they were headed. They were trapped.

All they could do was stand together as a group of agents in tactical gear stormed in and aimed their rifles right at them. The two of them raised their arms as they were surrounded.

Ressler quickly found himself on the ground, pinned by the HRT agent and having handcuffs locked around his wrists. He looked over to Liz, who was getting the same treatment. As their eyes met, they remained speechless, merely searching each other's eyes as the agents apprehended them. Both looking for an answer, though knowing they wouldn't find one.

Moments later, Liz was gently pulled up to her feet. She turned and saw Samar's intense stare, though she saw a hint of sympathy in her eyes.

"Look, we'll go with you, but you gotta keep us together. Please." Ressler implored as Meera pulled him up, a little hampered by their size difference.

"You don't have much of a choice though, do you?" Meera quipped.

"Do it, or you all die." Liz said boldly, eyeing the two other agents. "It's not something he can control. Not without me."

Samar stared at Liz and Ressler, then at the bodies that littered the floor.

After a moment of deliberation, Samar nodded to one of the other agents. "Keep them together, but keep a close eye on them." She then turned to Liz. "Don't think we won't shoot if you try anything."

Liz could do nothing but nod. She was a little hurt by Samar's words, having worked with her for so long. But it would be naive of her not to be cautious. Trust was hard to come by in their field of work. And though she believes she's earned it, it was understandable that her colleagues' instincts would have them treat her and Ressler like any other suspect. She was thankful that she trusted her enough to accept their request.

"Never thought I'd live to see it." Meera said over her shoulder to Liz as they were led out of the building.

"What do you mean?" Liz asked, confused.

"Reddington's gone out of his way your entire life to protect you." The smaller woman answered. "Imagine our surprise when he called out of the blue to tell us where you were."


	10. Chapter 10: Cards on the Table

Reddington closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to keep his patience as it quickly wore thin. The heavyset man snoring on his shoulder was starting to drool on his coat and as he looked to his left, he watched in dismay as the old woman sitting there dropped her teeth in the bowl of oatmeal she was eating.

"Oh my god." He muttered.

He looked over to the window and watched in annoyance as Glen snickered away from the blinds to sit at his desk.

When he walked through the door, he steeled himself, preparing for the headache he usually got from Glen.

"What can I do you for, Red?" He asked with a grin. "If it's oatmeal you're looking for, I'm fresh out."

Reddington grimaced in disgust.

"Say, where's Dembe?"

"I'd rather not subject him to this...Petri dish that you insist on torturing me with." He said, taking a seat. "I need to find someone."

The man behind the desk perked up. "You came to the right place," he said typing on his computer. "I've got about three separate profiles for five different dating sites. I'm pretty sure I've narrowed down—"

"Glen." Red scowled. "This is important."

"Alright, alright, what is it?"

"Doctor Alice Karlsen." He sighed exasperatedly.

"Uh-huh. And what is the good doctor's practice?" Glen asked.

"I don't know."

"Any idea where I should look?" Glen eyed him over his glasses. "Or what she looks like?"

"Start along the east coast." Reddington suggested.

Glen sighed and put his glasses down on the desk. "You realize I have better luck pickin' up a turd by its clean end than I do finding this woman, right?"

"I understand."

"Alright. Then I want a private jet." He smirked, crossing his arms.

"To where?!" Red asked incredulously. "I lent you one the last time, and I still haven't heard from the pilot."

"She's fine." Glen replied, batting his hand. "She ditched me in Puerto Rico. Anyway, I want different jet. To anywhere. Maybe this time with a blonde."

Reddington sat back and sighed, rolling his jaw.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to rise. Liz hung her head as she sat in the back of the transport vehicle. With her hands cuffed behind her back, she closed her eyes and sighed.

 _He betrayed us._

She searched through her head for any reason as to why the one person who's been watching over her whole life would try to kill her best friend and land her in prison.

Liz looked over at Ressler, who sat, staring at his boots. She couldn't help but feel responsible. He would've been fine, surviving out in the woods on his own, until she led a bunch of armed men to him. And now here he sat, on his way to being imprisoned for the rest of his life. Maybe even executed.

She grit her teeth and sighed in frustration. He was probably blaming himself. For putting _her_ in this situation.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling her from her thoughts and making them true.

She was right. _He_ was worried about _her._

"I'm sorry." She said, looking him in his tired eyes.

"For what?" He asked, surprised. "You did everything you could. We both know it was only a matter of time."

Liz sighed and looked away. "You could've been happy out there in the woods. Because of me, you had to go back on the run...and you almost died."

He chuckled dryly and shook his head. "I was hopeless out there. Every day was just… trying not to starve, or freeze to death, or go insane. You saved me from that, Liz."

She looked at him, searching his eyes and finding sincerity. Before she could respond, however, she was caught in a blur of loud screeching tires and crashing metal.

Hands behind her back, Liz could only try to brace herself as she was thrown around the truck. She felt every hard surface pummel her limbs and her body, but as quickly as it happened, everything was still.

She was on her side, head spinning and the taste of blood in her mouth. She could hear shouting and gunshots coming from outside.

"Liz." Ressler groaned.

She looked around frantically until he squirmed and she realized she had been laying on him.

"Sorry." She grunted as she attempted to sit up.

As soon as they found their bearings, the metal door burst open, revealing men armed with tactical gear and rifles.

"Get out, now!" One of them yelled.

Liz looked up and realized that they weren't with the bureau. She could still hear the firefight going on outside, gunshots still echoing around them and bullets ricocheting against the truck. They were both pulled up harshly, the armed men shoving them out of the truck and escorting them somewhere.

"Who sent you?" Liz asked loudly, though they didn't care to respond. "Was it Reddington?"

Still handcuffed, they were led into a nearby alley and forced up the fire escape, metal barrels of assault rifles poking into their backs until they stood on the roof of a building. From their vantage point, they could see the chaos unfolding below. The team that had come to arrest them were pinned down by automatic gunfire, taking cover behind their vehicles as a large company surrounded them. Liz could see Meera and Samar among them, being overwhelmed by the firepower of the unknown group.

"Hey, watch out!" Ressler yelled over to them suddenly before being yanked back from the edge of the roof by the armed men.

The two agents looked up just in time to see the men taking aim and spraying a barrage of bullets at them. Thankfully, Ressler's warning allowed them to reposition away from the gunfire.

"Shut him up! Where the hell is our extraction?" Shouted one of them.

Liz turned and noticed just in time as one of the men beside them slammed the butt of his gun against Ressler's head, knocking him out. Amidst the gunfire and chaos, she could hear the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching, until she took the same treatment Ressler got and fell to her knees, succumbing to unconsciousness.

* * *

The second he heard the elevator doors opening, Aram rushed across the war room to greet Meera and Samar. As the two agents stepped off, he approached them with concern while Cooper descended from the stairs.

"Are you okay?" He asked them worriedly.

"We're fine," Samar said with a smile while Meera nodded.

"What happened out there?" Cooper asked.

"We were ambushed." Meera began. "The transport vehicle was hit, then we were surrounded and pinned down."

"Whoever it was, they have some serious firepower." Samar said grimly. "Took out half the squad we were with and escaped on a helicopter."

"I didn't think Ressler was so connected." Aram pondered. "To have enough to go against HRT."

Meera and Samar gave each other a loaded look.

"Actually…" Meera added. "We're not sure it's Ressler."

Cooper and Aram both stared in surprise, waiting for an explanation.

"We were pinned down and they started to flank us." Samar explained. "We wouldn't be here if he hadn't called out to us."

"He hasn't escaped. He's been kidnapped. Along with Agent Keen." Cooper concluded.

"That doesn't prove he's innocent, of course." Samar stated with crossed arms, drawing Aram's eyes.

"And Agent Keen?" Aram challenged.

The four of them merely remained silent on the matter, not wanting to think about the possibility of her being a terrorist. As they stood there, the elevator opened again, and a familiar face stepped out.

"Whatever the case, we need to find them." Cooper said, eyeing the woman who had just arrived with confusion. He then turned back to his team and spouted off orders. "Navabi, contact Metro P.D. and find out how there's a small army roaming around in the middle of a lockdown. Aram, I need you to find that helicopter. Something like that couldn't have gotten out of the city unseen. Malik—"

"Agents, you can go ahead and disregard those orders." Cynthia Panabaker said with a serious face.

The three of them looked back and forth at their superiors, floored by the order.

"Excuse me?" Cooper asked, suddenly irritated.

"We need to talk, Harold." Panabaker said as she waited for no reply and walked up the stairs to his office.

* * *

Ressler sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Rolling his shoulder, he stretched his neck from side to side, attempting to relieve some of the soreness. Getting home from a long day of following a dead lead was bad enough. Having to do so at two in the morning, when he had to go back to work in just a few hours, was exhausting.

He yawned as he closed the door. And as he toed off his shoes and began to trudge his way to his room, his tired eyes widened when he caught a familiar smell.

In the dark room barely lit by the streetlights and the moon streaming in from outside, he could smell the comforting scent of Chinese food. Looking over at his couch, he could see a familiar shape: Liz, asleep on her side with a throw blanket over her form.

He smiled a little, then went back to being confused when he realized that he didn't know why she was here. He walked over and crouched beside her, throwing his suit jacket on a nearby chair.

"Liz?" He said gently, his hand on her shoulder.

"Mmm." She mumbled.

"Liz." He repeated, a little louder.

She woke with a deep inhale, her eyes still groggy as she blinked away the sleep. When she realized he was home, she quickly sat up.

"Oh shit...uh, surprise!" She said awkwardly.

His eyebrows stitched together, "Yeah...it is. What's the, uh...occasion?" He sat down on the couch next to her.

She gave him a big smile. "Well...when you told me they picked you to lead a high-profile case, I figured we should celebrate." She looked at her phone and her face fell when she saw the time. "...But I guess that meant you'd be a bit busier, huh?"

He gave her an apologetic look. "Yeah…sorry about that. If I'd known you'd be here…"

"It's fine." She brushed it off amiably. "I'm not sure if you'd be too excited about cold Wing Yee's, but I got something else for you."

Ressler raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Liz then reached over into her purse and pulled out a small, black box. She then handed it to him, barely able to keep the excitement off her face.

Ressler flipped open the lid with his thumb, and his breath caught at the sight. Nestled inside was a watch, its sleek silver gleaming with the small amount of light from outside and the face was a stunning, deep navy blue that matched his wide eyes. The second hand ticked around efficiently, each beat gliding over the uniform notches with a silky gold that stood out starkly against the background with the other hands.

"Oh, Liz…" he breathed. "This is…"

"Maybe you can use it to come home at a reasonable time." She said, nudging his arm.

Ressler laughed, rolling up his sleeve to take off his old watch and replace it with her gift.

"Wow," he remarked, turning his wrist to admire the watch. "Perfect fit."

"I may have...snuck in here a few days ago and grabbed one of your other watches to get the size." She smirked.

"You broke into my apartment?" He scoffed.

"Hey, it's not breaking in - you gave me a key! And it's right back where you left it."

He shook his head with his trademark grin and pulled her into a tight hug. "Thanks, Liz. I love it."

"You deserve it." She said softly.

When they pulled apart he shared a look with her. She then sighed and stood up, grabbing her purse. "Well, I should get going. You need to get some rest. You look like crap."

He chuckled at that. Part of him wanted to tell her to stay; to sit beside him and enjoy the now-cold dinner she'd been kind enough to bring him. But another part knew that he really needed sleep and that she probably had something to do in the morning as well.

So instead, he gave her another grateful smile and walked her over to the door.

"Thanks again, Liz. Have a good night...er...morning, I guess." He looked at the time and admired the watch again. "This is an amazing gift."

She stood still at the door for a moment, then leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm proud of you, Don." She gave him one last smile and walked away.

* * *

Ressler sighed as he sat in yet another truck surrounded by a convoy. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, he stroked his thumb over that same watch. It suddenly weighed heavily around his wrist, the formerly pristine gift now had scratches around the band and the glass over the face had been cracked. He could feel his dried blood stuck to what he now considered to be a priceless treasure.

He didn't know how long they'd been traveling, but he knew it was bright out. Liz had her head on his shoulder again, her shoulders swaying gently as the road went on. Despite the circumstances, she had managed to fall asleep. Of course, with what they'd gone through he was sure that she was exhausted. He knew _he_ was.

Ressler looked over the bruises and scratches that he could see. Regardless of all her injuries, his focus was still drawn by the scent of her hair so close to his face. That familiar aroma he'd grown accustomed to.

 _I'll get you out of this, Liz. I promise._

* * *

"Tell me you're kidding." Cooper said.

"We had an agreement, Harold." Panabaker replied. "You watch my back and I watch yours. And I'm tellin' you right now - you need to back off."

"Ressler's got Agent Keen with him." He reasoned. "Without her, this deal with Reddington falls apart. I can't do my job if I abandon this case."

"You won't have one if you chase those men."

"What the hell does that mean?" He demanded.

Panabaker sighed. "The people who took Ressler and Agent Keen are from a private military intelligence organization. One that our government happens to be on good terms with."

"You're telling me that the government is going to let a private military company get ahold of Ressler? You know what he's capable of."

"I also know that this organization is the same one our country uses for covert operations, to which the government likes to remain unattached." She snapped. "Harold, one man-sized nuke is nothin' compared to all the ones that could be set off by the dirt they have on us."

Cooper leaned back in his chair, in utter disbelief that the government is in bed with such a dangerous entity.

"You want me to look the other way after one of my best agents is missing." He grumbled. "And I'm supposed to just let a suspected terrorist go?"

"You've worked with Reddington, you shouldn't have any problem doin' just that." She retorted. "And don't you worry about Ressler, we _will_ have words about him."

He sighed, taking off his glasses and squeezing the bridge of his nose. "So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest you find a way to pull Reddington's string without Agent Keen and make him sing, or you can tell your taskforce to start polishing up their résumés."

* * *

When the truck finally stopped, Liz and Ressler were once again forced out of the vehicle by the armed men and escorted towards what seemed to be a large warehouse. They had no clue where they were, other than the fact that it was by a port.

They found their way inside and were led through a maze of industrial shelves and shipping crates until they reached a large freight elevator in the back of the warehouse. They descended below ground and Liz was shocked when the doors opened. What looked like a base of operations, not unlike the Post Office, greeted them, complete with high-tech equipment and staff, as well as several armed men standing at the walls, keeping the place secure.

They were then brought to what seemed like a medical wing, and told to wait in a small room, still surrounded by armed guards. Liz could only shoot a concerned glance at Ressler, who returned it; they had no clue what to expect. After a few minutes, the door behind them opened and a familiar voice found its way into their ears.

Liz felt as if her throat was suddenly dry. Her eyes widened and heart pumped into overdrive when she turned around on unsteady legs.

"Hey, Liz," Tom said with a smile. "Welcome to Halcyon."


	11. Chapter 11: A Light in the Dark

Ressler turned his eyes towards Liz, who stood completely in shock. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape. He could see the confusion and pain in her eyes, lost in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Leave us." Tom said to the guards. "We'll be alright."

Hesitantly, the men stopped pointing their guns at Liz and Ressler and filed out of the door. Tom then produced a key and began unlocking their handcuffs.

"I know you probably have a lot of questions, but right now—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Liz gave him a rigid fist right to the mouth as soon as her hands were free. Recoiling, Tom grabbed his jaw, scoffing and showing off the blood on his teeth.

"Okay, I deserve that." He groaned..

"Who are you?" Liz asked with anger in her tone.

He sighed and shook his head. "Look, I'll tell you everything I can, but right now, I wanna make sure you're alright." Tom nudged his head by the door towards a woman whom Liz had failed to notice in her rage.

She had long, blonde hair and wore a white lab coat over a purple dress shirt and a black pencil skirt. She also wore black heels that made her almost as tall as Ressler. She stood quietly as she looked at them, her eyes kind behind a pair of glasses.

"This is Doctor Karlsen." Tom introduced.

"You can call me Alice." She said with a wave and a smile.

Liz shared a look with Ressler at the mention of the familiar name.

"She'll go over you two; make sure you're alright. I've got some things to take care of right now, but once you get checked out, I'll come find you." He said to Liz before turning to the doctor. "Take them to their room afterwards."

Alice nodded and Tom exited the room.

Liz looked at Ressler, hoping he had the same idea of getting information out of the woman whom Liz had remembered. It would be easy now that they were alone with her. Before she could move, however, the woman quickly walked up to Ressler and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"Oh, thank god you're okay." Alice said quietly.

Ressler's eyes grew wide, his arms stiffening at his sides. He looked at Liz with confusion and she gave him a similar stare. The woman then pulled away and gave Liz a hug as well.

"Umm…" Liz could barely speak.

Alice then stepped back with a look of realization.

"Oh, that's right…" she said apologetically. "You don't remember me…"

Liz was a little stunned by how disappointed she seemed.

"That's alright. Hopefully you'll remember soon. For now let's see if you two are okay."

She gestured over to an exam table, waiting for them to sit on it. When neither of them moved, she sighed.

"Look, I know I'm probably the last person you'd trust right now, but I need to make sure you're not too injured."

Hesitantly, Ressler walked up and sat on the table. She shined a light in his eyes and listened to his heartbeat, looking him over the way any medical doctor would. Then Liz came up to the table.

After she listened to Liz's heart, the doctor's penlight flashed into her eyes and the moment the light left, she felt as if she were on her back, feeling like she was shaking off a groggy unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry." Alice said. "I should've stopped them sooner."

Liz felt a tired smile come to her face. "You stopped them. That's all that matters. I'm glad you're here."

The bright light passed over her eyes and suddenly she was staring at Alice, with Ressler standing behind her. She blinked away the glare in her eyes and got off the table, sneaking glances at the woman as she jotted down notes on her clipboard.

"I'll have to examine you two more thoroughly later, but for now, I should take you to your room so you can get yourselves cleaned up." She said with a friendly smile.

"We have a room?" Liz asked, glancing at Ressler, who shrugged.

"They want you to stay here." Alice said cautiously. "It's safe...for now…"

They followed her to a single room, away from any of the people they had run into earlier. Upon entering, Liz noticed that it looked just like a hotel room. There was a door to a bathroom, a dresser against the wall with a TV on top, and a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room flanked by two nightstands. There was also a kitchenette in the corner.

"There are clothes in the drawers. You two should get cleaned up and get some rest." Alice explained. She then looked at the door and continued in a hushed voice. "Tom will be here soon, but I'll come find you afterwards. We'll talk then."

She exited the room and the two of them were left standing, looking at each other.

"What do you think?" Liz asked with a sigh.

"My first instinct is to get the hell out of here and never look back." Ressler replied.

"But?"

"This might be our best chance at finding out what happened to us." He sighed. "And we're still wanted out there."

Liz nodded in understanding. She sat on the edge of the bed, silently pensive.

"What do you think about this doctor?" He then asked.

"I don't know _what_ to think." She shrugged. "I just remembered her. Felt like she helped me...but I'm not dumb enough to trust her just from that."

Ressler crossed his arms and nodded. "We'll find out what we can. First sign of trouble, we get the hell out of here."

"We'll be okay." Liz said assuredly, though she felt as if she was saying it more to herself.

"Look, Liz...Halcyon is a private military firm. I'm not sure if it's true, but I've heard their work involves covert ops for rich clients. And that they're not scared of breaking laws or crossing boundaries. They've got a ton of firepower, but who knows what they can do with us. They're not just going to let us go."

She noticed the apprehension behind his eyes. Like her, he wanted the truth, but was unsure whether or not it was worth the risk. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's like you said, we'll figure it out." She said confidently.

She then tilted her head towards the bathroom. "Mind if I just wash my face? You can take the first shower." She looked down at his blood-crusted, torn clothes. "You definitely need it more than I do."

He chuckled. "Go ahead." He turned and began looking through the drawers for fresh clothes. He then turned back to her, holding up a gray t-shirt. "Should I be worried that this is the right size?"

"I guess that proves we've been here before." She replied with worry.

They shared another look, until Ressler turned back towards the dresser and returned to contemplative silence. She took that as her cue to leave.

Liz went into the bathroom and scrubbed her face clear of the dried blood. As she watched the water turn red and swirl down the drain, she could feel her throat clench at the memory of Ressler; his skin pale and drenched in sweat and blood. Shaking her head, she splashed her face with more cold water and forced herself to take a deep breath.

 _He's alive,_ She told herself.

The two words reverberated in her mind and brought back a familiar echo. The same thoughts she'd had long ago.

* * *

Her boots echoed loudly as she rushed through the hospital, seeking the right room. As soon as she found it, Liz felt her heart drop. She looked into the open room, seeing a middle-aged nurse checking the equipment attached to an unconscious Ressler.

"Is he alright?" She asked with concern.

The nurse looked at her, clearly surprised. "Are you Liz?"

She nodded frantically. "They called me and said he was getting surgery and I was busy at the time and I didn't recognize the number so I sent it to voicemail, and now I'm not sure—"

"He's fine." The nurse interrupted to assure her. "He was shot in the leg, but he should be fine. The surgery went well."

Liz tried to calm herself and sighed in relief, pulling up a chair by the bed and holding Ressler's hand in her shaking one. She looked at his face; peaceful, but marred by cuts and bruises. His hair was unrestricted and he seemed a little more pale than usual. Liz could only try to find comfort in the warmth of his hand and his calm breathing.

"Your boyfriend's lucky," the nurse said with a smile. "The bullet barely missed an artery. He would have bled out."

She was a little startled by the title, though thankful for his luck. "Oh, he's not my boyfriend, he's just…uh, someone...a good friend." She could feel herself blushing as she stuttered and suddenly realized how she must've looked.

The nurse gave her a knowing look. "Well, your 'someone' is very lucky."

"I'm glad he's okay."

"He's going to need to stay here for about a week, but he seems to be in good shape for recovery." The nurse then took notice of her shaking leg, and how her eyes frantically looked over his unconscious form. "Don't worry. Worst case, he gets some time off. Maybe take some Oxy for the pain."

Liz could only look at the nurse and give her a sad smile, though her words were calming. The nurse then turned to leave, but stopped at the door. She then turned back to face Liz.

"You know, he was muttering your name in his sleep. Right before the surgery. And after."

When the nurse left, Liz couldn't help but smile at him. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand as she thought about how close they were before they were suddenly so busy. It had been a month since she'd last seen him. Clearly a call from the hospital wasn't the best way to reconnect. Especially when she didn't even know that she was his emergency contact. Though it made sense; he had never talked much about his family. And she was certain he wasn't in a relationship.

They'd spent a lot of time together until he was promoted and was suddenly much more busy in the field. In turn, she had been busy with finishing up at the academy and looking for a job.

Liz realized that out of all the hardships; the lack of sleep, the long days, and the stressful interviews; not spending time with him took a big toll on her. One that she couldn't believe was so critical in her life. But now that she was with him, she could breathe a little easier. All of that stress went out the window. Nothing else was on her mind. She didn't even want to dwell on what the nurse had told her. All that mattered was that he was alive.

* * *

All too quickly, the sound of water rushing from the faucet returned, and she was back staring at the mirror.

She looked at her reflection and sighed as she saw the outright exhaustion in her eyes. Though she had gotten some sleep earlier, it felt as if it made her more tired. Bruises marked her chin and her forehead and a few cuts had formed on her cheek, though they seemed to have already been healing.

For a moment, she thought about how she would look if she had never taken on this harrowing campaign; if she had never committed herself to Ressler's struggles. She quickly shoved that thought out of her head. It wasn't just about him. It involved her as well. Though he was right about her having been able to live her life happily unaware, it wouldn't have been real. Now that she knew her 'husband' was involved with what happened to them, she realized that the life she wanted would have never been truly possible with Tom, or whoever he really is. And after that memory, she wasn't completely against being by Ressler in his time of need.

Dejectedly, Liz turned off the faucet, grabbed a towel, and dried off her face. She took another deep breath before she exited the bathroom and was greeted by Ressler sitting on the bed, a stack of clean clothes in his hand. She gave him a ghost of a smile and headed towards the dresser.

Before Ressler could walk into the bathroom, Liz surprised him.

"Hey," she said, grabbing his arm.

He looked into her eyes. He seemed confused at first, but at the sight of the emotions she was trying to hide, his eyes softened.

"I'm…glad you're okay…" she said faintly.

She watched as he clenched his jaw and nodded, briefly searching her eyes again before heading into the bathroom. When she heard the water running, she began digging through the dresser in search of clothes, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Liz opened the door and was met by Tom, standing before her with a grin. He looked completely different now. She had seen him without glasses before, but now it felt as if she was talking to a stranger. She stood still at the door, crossing her arms and giving him a serious look.

"Where's Ressler?" He asked, throwing his eyes across the small space she had opened.

"In the shower." She said flatly.

"Can I come in?"

"Why?"

"To talk." He said with confusion.

"We're talking now." Liz retorted.

Tom sighed and searched her eyes. "Look, I know you feel betrayed and confused…and that I probably hurt you…and I'm sorry for that. Nothing I say can change that."

He watched as her stare stayed rigid, aimed directly at his eyes, as if willing them to show the truth.

"But I want you to know that everything I did was to protect you." He continued. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Kidnapping us? That's your definition of protection?" She scoffed.

"Protection from the bureau. The police. Reddington." He said sternly. "You don't have to be on the run here, Liz, and you certainly won't be assassinated."

Liz could feel her breath catching. She turned and looked at the wall, biting her lip and scolding herself for having the emotions that were threatening to make themselves known. She let out a frustrated sigh and glared back at him.

"So? Who are you really?" She asked. "And why are we here?"

"I was tasked with keeping an eye on you." He explained. "I think you know by now that you're pretty important. Well, the easiest way to do that was—"

"To marry me…" she finished, then laughed dryly and shook her head. "I was an assignment."

Tom stood silently, looking at the floor in response.

"What else?" She asked sharply.

"We want to figure out what this...thing is." Tom continued. "How it works."

"And what happens if you do?" Liz challenged.

"We try to get rid of it." He offered. "Get you back to normal."

"Normal's gone, Tom." She said, shaking her head. "There's nothing I can do to make things go back to the way they were."

"It doesn't hurt to try…besides," he gave her a gentle smile as he searched her eyes. "You might have started out as a job, but…it wasn't hard to fall in love with you."

Liz could feel her heart thumping at the confession. And she hated it. She should be angry, hurt, and vengeful. Not…whatever this was.

"For now, try and get some rest. God knows you both need it." He then looked into the room and back into her eyes, his face suddenly serious. "I'll see about getting separate beds for you."

With that, he gave her another disarming smile, and turned to leave.

* * *

Ressler sighed in relief as he shut the water off, finally feeling somewhat clean. Stepping out of the shower, he quickly dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped the condensation off of the mirror and stared into the foggy glass.

Leaning against the sink, he looked at his reflection. The hot water had brought out a healthy flush from his pale skin, and he felt much better after scrubbing all of the dried blood off. He still noticed the slight bags under his eyes, likely from the nonstop fatigue that came from being on the run and not being able to sleep, along with the bruises and cuts that he could barely feel.

His eyes then fell lower, moving across his chest, and focusing on the scar that had appeared. He ran his fingers over the small mark, just above the right side of his chest. It was the only thing left behind by the bullet that killed him. The only true evidence of his death.

He realized that he still hadn't had any chance to process what had happened. _He died._ He was assassinated; shot and his heart stopped beating. And Reddington's medical team had been killed while Liz was right next to him. Ressler felt that the further they go down this rabbit hole, the more questions they unearthed. The more pain pulled out from both of them.

He looked back up at his eyes, and found himself suddenly staring back at bloodshot eyes, unstable with defeat. He felt his shoulders burdened by the weight of fatigue, and pain radiated throughout his body. His skin prickled, clawing in search of numbness. His throat felt raw and his stomach gnawed at his insides, having been recently emptied.

Small tremors came and went as he struggled to steady himself. The sight that stared back could barely fulfill the strength he'd been begging for. That is, until a sympathetic face looked over his shoulder.

With eyes softened by pained tears, Liz spoke gently. "You're gonna get through this…I know you will."

As quickly as the feeling came, it went away, leaving him standing at the sink; his body suddenly getting cold as the humidity from the shower began to dissipate.

Pulling his focus back to reality, he got himself dressed and exited the bathroom. Upon entering the main room, he found Liz sitting at the edge of the bed. Neatly-folded clothes sat on her lap as she buried her face in her hands.

"You okay?" He asked with concern.

She quickly looked up and gave him a faint smile. "Yeah. Just...tired."

He looked at her as she made her way to the shower, not believing her one bit, but he couldn't bring himself to challenge her. He knew there was a lot on their minds, but he also knew those old words of hers would ring true. They were both going to get through this.

* * *

By the time Liz had finished cleaning up, it had gotten dark. Or it would have been if they weren't in an underground facility. With a sigh, she went into the room and found the lights turned low. Ressler was lying on the bed, on his side and facing away from her.

She realized that they hadn't talked about sleeping arrangements. She didn't mind sleeping next to him, but she wasn't sure how he felt about it. But seeing him there pushed the worry right out of her mind. He seemed to have fallen asleep from pure exhaustion, and he certainly deserved the rest.

Resigning to getting some sleep herself, she gently pulled up the covers and slipped into bed, moving carefully to avoid waking Ressler. She sunk into the comfortable feeling of the bed, slightly cool and refreshing, yet cozy under the covers. She glanced back towards Ressler and smiled as she noticed he was completely at rest. She turned around with her back to him and let her eyes close; finally able to relax and sleep.

* * *

"Liz." Ressler said gently, squeezing her shoulder. "Liz, wake up."

Her eyes still felt heavy, though she felt the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck. His voice had sounded soft, but close, as if he were only inches away and she reveled in the deep, comforting tone. She let her lips crest into a smile as she was suddenly so aware of the weight settled on the bed so close behind her. She was about to turn around when she heard another familiar voice.

"I'm sorry it's late," Alice apologized.

Liz's eyes quickly shot open and she realized she hadn't been dreaming. Not daring to glance behind her, she sat up and pulled her legs over the side of the bed. Looking at a clock on the wall, she realized it was two in the morning. She finally turned and saw Alice standing patiently by the door with an apologetic smile, bathed by the warm light of one of the lamps on the nightstand.

"It's hard to sneak around in here," she continued. "I barely convinced the guard that I needed complete privacy for umm...invasive tests."

"What's going on?" Liz asked, shaking off the sleep and forcing herself to focus on Alice.

"I said we would talk." Alice said, stepping forward and settling herself on the foot of the bed. "First things first, I can tell you right now that I don't know exactly what happened to the two of you that made you...the way you are…"

Liz heard Ressler scoff in frustration. "What else is there to know?"

"I can help you remember." She offered. "Fill in some blanks."

"And why should we believe you?" Liz asked. "You say you know us, but how can we be sure?"

"You don't." Alice responded. "But no one else is going to tell you what you've been through." Alice sighed as her eyes moved between the two of them. "You two aren't the first ones to go through what you went through. But you are the first ones to survive."

"Survive what?" Ressler asked.

She looked them in the eyes sympathetically. "You two have forgotten some really horrible things that happened here." Alice looked down at her hands, clearly bothered by the recollection. "There were...experiments. To test the limits of what you can do."

"What kind of experiments?" Ressler asked cautiously.

The doctor shrugged. "Just about any horrible thing you can think of. Blood loss, organ trauma, beatings…one of the experiments was to test the effects of drug dependency..."

Ressler's eyes widened and he slowly shook his head. "No…no, no, I got hooked on pills because—"

"You weren't shot in the leg." She interrupted resolutely. "It was forced into your system."

"No, no there were pills!" Ressler said, clearly upset. "It was me…"

Alice sighed sympathetically, "To keep your condition secret, Halcyon went to great lengths to cover it up. Most of all from the two of you. They implanted fake memories so that you wouldn't remember anything about the experiments or anything having to do with what happened to you. I know your addiction was one of them."

Ressler sat completely silent, lowering his head and absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry Don," Alice said. She then took a deep breath, clearly affected by the heavy subject. "Have you two remembered anything?"

Liz nodded in response. "There've been…bits and pieces coming back. Since we met."

"It's because you two are together again."

Suddenly, it all made sense. The memories that were flooding back. Dr. Orchard's warnings. All of the facts about what had happened. They weren't just missing, they were taken. Replaced.

"How many times has he…" Liz couldn't find it in her to finish the question.

"Including today… six times."

Liz felt her breath catch and she turned to Ressler, who looked back at her with an unreadable expression. He then turned back to the woman before them.

"What about Liz?" Ressler asked.

Alice looked at him with confusion.

"Has she died?"

Liz looked at Ressler in surprise, then back to Alice, waiting impatiently for a response.

"...Not that I know of…" Alice said apologetically. "I don't know if she can come back like you can."

They sat in silence, attempting to come to terms with the revelations the woman had brought forward. It was hard to think about the possibilities. The pain they must've gone through. Perhaps it was better that they didn't remember what sounded like torture.

Liz then spoke up. "Are you saying that all these memories, everything we're remembering. They're all fake?"

Alice looked between the two of them again, unsure about how to answer. "I'm not sure. Some are, but some might have been real. I don't know all of the memories they gave you." She then looked up at the clock and stood from the bed. "I've gotta go. I've been here long enough. I'm sorry, I know it's a tough subject to leave you to sleep with, but I don't want them to get suspicious. We'll talk more in the morning."

Liz and Ressler had too much on their mind to stop her as she left. They sat quietly on the bed, left to contemplate everything they'd just learned. Eventually Liz forced herself to lie down, and turned to face Ressler.

"I don't know about you, but I don't think I can sleep right now." She said, half-joking.

Ressler reached over and turned off the light. He slid down onto his back and kept quiet, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. Liz couldn't help but look at him, wondering what exactly he was thinking. His face was stonelike and expressionless.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly.

He turned his head and searched her eyes.

After a moment, he asked softly, "Do you remember me?"

Liz was taken aback by the question. She knew there was a lot on their minds, but she definitely wasn't expecting that.

"Of course." She said, her eyes roaming over the freckles on his face, barely visible in the low light coming through the gaps of the closed door.

"What about…us?"

Liz sighed, though she maintained eye contact with him. "I remember some things…good things. We…cared about each other. Everything else is kind of…fuzzy."

Ressler looked back up at the ceiling as his lips slowly turned up into a small smile. "Me too…" he then licked his lips and his smile disappeared. "Do you think it was all real?"

"...I don't know…" Liz said softly.

The silence returned, and Liz wasn't sure if it was a comfortable one, but she didn't dare break it. It was a lot to think about, but Liz felt that every thought led to a thousand more, and mental stress was the last thing she needed right now. Eventually, she fell into a quiet, restless sleep.

 _I hope so._

* * *

When Ressler's eyes opened, the room was still pretty dark, though the light in the bathroom was on and the door was closed. He realized that Liz had gotten out of the bed and found himself hoping she had gotten some rest. After everything they'd learned last night, it was the least they deserved.

He pulled his legs over the side of the bed, and stood. Stretching and shaking the sleep off, he was about to dig through the dresser, when he heard a knock on the front door.

He looked back towards the bathroom, then answered the door.

"Morning." Tom said, a little too cheerfully. "Liz up yet?"

"She's in the bathroom." Ressler replied. "What's up?"

Tom gave him a look before smiling and shaking his head. "It can wait. I'll tell Doctor Karlsen you two are up. She'll want to check in on you." He then gave Ressler a slap on the shoulder. "Hope you got some rest, buddy. I'm sure you needed it." He then walked away.

As soon as it happened, the feeling of Tom's hand on his shoulder had Ressler in a trance. Suddenly there was soft music around him. A cacophony of conversations surrounded him and a sweet buzz warmed his bones. He was enjoying the atmosphere until a hand clapped him on the back.

"Sorry about the wait." Tom said with a grin, before seating himself across from him in the booth. "Glad you found the place alright."

"Took you long enough." Ressler chuckled before taking another sip of his coffee. "So what's so urgent?"

Tom looked around the coffee shop for a moment then nudged Ressler in the arm. "See that woman over there? The pretty brunette with the blue eyes?" He gestured to a corner of the room where the woman was alone, papers scattered on the table in front of her with a laptop open.

"What about her?"

"She's got ties to Reddington." Tom said slyly. "You get close to her, you'll find him for sure."

Ressler watched the woman with interest as she shuffled through her papers busily. Then the barista called out.

"Small coffee for Liz?"

The woman then got up and walked towards the counter.


	12. Chapter 12: Trust

"Sir, you can't be serious." Aram spoke nervously.

"I'm afraid I am," Cooper replied. "Either we drop this case or the taskforce gets decommissioned."

"So White House counsel is just going to look the other way?" Meera scoffed. "After they took Agent Keen and Ressler?"

"Not to mention all of the agents they injured." Samar added bitterly.

"They're worried Halcyon has too much dirt on them. Though I imagine they're not too thrilled about submitting to a private military company." Cooper concluded.

"Of course, they're not!" Reddington exclaimed with a laugh as he walked into the office with Dembe close behind. "And that's exactly the kind of kindred condemnation from the government we need to take advantage of."

"How so?" Cooper asked.

"The only reason they want you to drop this case is that your taskforce is attached to the government. It's bad enough they made a deal with me." Reddington explained. "One slip-up and they'll take the blame."

"So...we should work outside of the taskforce?" Aram pondered. "How do we do that?"

"Agent Mojtabai, you're not suggesting we discuss sabotaging a private company! That would be illegal!" Reddington replied with feigned surprise. "And in front of Assistant Director Cooper, no less!"

Samar could only roll her eyes as Meera scoffed. Cooper merely sighed and cleaned his glasses.

"Oh," Aram blushed. "No…of course not.."

"I'll get back to you with a more…acceptable solution." Reddington said with a grin as he exited the office.

* * *

Ressler sat at the edge of the bed, stealing furtive glances at Liz, who was digging through the cupboards in the kitchenette.

He didn't know whether to share his most recent memory or not. On one hand, it could coincide with something she may have remembered and they could learn something about their past. On the other, it could lead to her being suspicious of him. Her trust was the one thing he was sure he had right now. It wasn't exactly smart to put that in danger. Whatever the case, he knew one thing. There was more to Tom than what they know.

"You alright?" Liz asked.

Ressler snapped out of his thoughts and defaulted to a grin and a nod. "Yeah. Just…still waking up a bit."

"Well, drink some coffee." She chuckled. "You're the only one I trust here, I need you on your toes."

Ressler grinned and stood to make himself a cup of coffee, his mind clashing against itself at her words. Staring at the steaming cup, he took a deep breath and turned back to face her.

"Liz, listen, I—"

A sharp knock on the door interrupted him and the nerves he had struggled to build up to tell her came crashing down. Liz looked at him, then at the door, then back at him. Clearly, she had heard him.

"What is it?" She asked, maintaining eye contact with him.

Another set of knocks erupted against the door.

Ressler sighed as he set his coffee on the counter and went to answer the door. "It can wait." He grumbled.

* * *

Samar sighed as she walked into the fancy hotel room. Reddington had given each of them a large pepperoni pizza with a note instructing them to come to the address. She wasn't exactly fond of the situation and how they had to work behind the bureau's back, but she understood.

"So how exactly are we supposed to find Liz?" Samar asked, her arms crossed as she sat on the couch and propped her legs up on the coffee table.

Reddington plopped down a pile of folders by her feet with a pompous smile. "Matias Solomon."

"The fugitive that killed those US Marshals?" Meera asked as she gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Dembe.

"The very same." Reddington answered. "Though, the victims may have a different definition of 'US Marshal.'"

"What does that mean?" Aram asked, fidgeting and not knowing how to sit comfortably on the fancy furniture.

"Solomon was a former operative of Halcyon, though I doubt you'd find him in their official records." Red explained. "Those marshals weren't taking him into custody…they were going to execute him."

"Let me guess," Samar spoke up. "Halcyon's men?"

Reddington nodded, and the taskforce shared concerned looks, realizing the extent of the company's reach.

"You know where he is?" Meera questioned in surprise.

Reddington nodded. "This morning, he made contact with my people to arrange safe passage to Morocco. It'll be easy enough to bring him to another location and interrogate him."

"You think he'll hate Halcyon enough to give us information?" Samar asked.

"I know _I_ would. And if he doesn't, I can always call Brimley." He said, giving Dembe a look.

With a smile, Reddington got up and went into the kitchen, leaving everyone else to anticipate his plans in silence. He began pouring himself a glass of wine until he noticed Samar behind him.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked, her eyes unreadable.

He looked back at her expectantly.

"Liz and Ressler. How is it that you knew where they were?"

"Agent Navabi, I'm sure you know by now that I always have my ear to the ground." Red replied.

"And your finger on the pulse." Samar said, keeping her eyes trained on his.

He merely smiled and went back to pouring his wine.

* * *

Liz bit her lip in anticipation as Ressler slowly made his way between the bars. The physical therapy for his leg had been a hard road to recovery, but she made it a point to see him every step of the way.

She watched his leg shaking as he forced himself to put weight on it, only having his hands positioned above the bars. He made it about halfway through before his stability broke and he was forced to lean on the bars. She could see the frustration coming from his clenched jaw. He exhaled heavily, wiping the sweat from his brow, and shook his head.

His eyes then found hers and she gave him an encouraging smile and a nod. He looked back down at his feet, clearly steeling himself as he took a deep breath and made his way along the bars.

* * *

She watched suspiciously as Alice scribbled across the papers on her clipboard, standing next to Ressler, who wore a blood pressure cuff and was sitting patiently on the exam table. They were apparently 'under observation'.

Liz realized just how familiar it felt. Sitting in the same room as Ressler was evaluated by a medical professional. She smiled faintly when the words, _'This idiot needs to learn how to be careful,'_ found a familiar place in her mind.

"Any problems?" Alice asked.

"I got shot." He deadpanned.

"Can I see?" She asked, not looking away from her notes.

Hesitantly, he reached up and pulled the collar of his t-shirt down, revealing the scar that seemed to have been there for years. Alice reached towards the scar, running her fingers over it. All the while, Ressler was looking up at the ceiling, clearly waiting for the check-up to end.

"Is this all we're doing while we're here?" Liz asked, a little irritated. "Check-ups and observations?"

Alice turned towards Liz, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"We have to be careful." She apologized in a quiet tone. "This is all I can do to keep them from moving forward right now."

"Moving forward?" Liz asked, standing from her seat and walking towards the other two. "With what?"

"Making someone else like you," she said, turning to Ressler. "Someone more willing. Someone they can control."

"How much of that do you actually know about?" Ressler asked, his eyes narrowing.

"About Halcyon's plans?"

"About making someone like me." He said, standing from the exam table and walking up close to Alice.

She looked at him intensely, dredging up the courage to answer, until the door to the room opened and Tom walked in.

"How are they, Doc?" He asked, a little too cheerfully.

Liz rolled her eyes at the grating sound of his voice. She didn't want to look at him, and instead kept her eyes on Ressler, who clenched his jaw and stepped back from the doctor.

"Still a few things to look over, but so far so good." Alice replied in a seamless, cheery tone.

Tom frowned. "How much longer do you need?"

Alice grit her teeth, but managed to smile through it. "I'm doing my best. I'm all alone here and I don't want to take any risks."

Tom replied with a suspicious glare, but said nothing more to her. Instead, he turned to Liz and plastered on a smile.

"Liz, can we talk?" He asked. "Alone?"

Liz groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted to do was see him, much less talk to him. She wasn't sure if it was the betrayal or the way he still expected her to run back into his arms, but the sight of him made her want to punch something. And yet, she knew that whatever honey-soaked words he was going to say to her, something in her head was going to eat it up. And it pissed her off to no end.

Of course, she knew it was the only way to get rid of him. She glanced at Ressler, who raised an eyebrow and gave an almost unnoticeable nod towards Alice. Liz knew she had to talk to Tom so that Ressler could learn more about their situation. With an exasperated sigh, she followed Tom out of the room.

* * *

Ressler stared at Liz's back as she disappeared through the door.

"Don't worry," Alice said. "She'll be okay."

"And you know that how?" Ressler challenged.

"Despite what he's done, he really cares about her." She looked at him, as if she were trying to read him. "I can tell."

Ressler looked away with an exhale. "You were saying - about Halcyon? About making someone like me."

She gave him another look, clearly noticing the clunky transition to a different topic. "There's not much to say. They don't know how. That's why you two are here." she trailed off, and turned her back to him, writing on her notes. "Reverse engineering."

"What do you mean they don't know? Didn't they do it in the first place?" He scoffed.

"Only the doctor who led the procedure knew. Doctor Gideon Carter." She said in a solemn tone.

"So where is he?"

"He's dead."

* * *

Liz sighed and crossed her arms as she walked out the door. "What is it?"

"Look, I know you don't believe a single word I say, and I get that. I broke your trust and I'm sorry." Tom began, looking around the empty hallway. "But…here."

He held out his hand, extending what looked to be a keycard. Liz took it cautiously, looking it over.

"I'm hoping this'll at least get you in the direction of trusting me." He whispered.

"...What's this for?" She asked, searching his eyes.

"Subfloor 3. End of the hall to the right. You're gonna want to wait until Thursday and get there at around two in the morning. Security won't be too tight." Tom explained quietly. "I'll try to keep them away from you but…I can't help you much if you get caught."

Liz furrowed her brows. She ran her thumb over the pristine, black keycard as her eyes found his. She saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes and she didn't know if he was being truthful or if he was that good of an actor, but she hated how she felt at the gesture.

"Regardless of what you think, I care about you, Liz." Tom admitted. "I'm gonna make this right."

She could only watch speechlessly as he walked away.

* * *

When Liz walked back into the examination room, Ressler was quick to greet her.

"Everything okay?" He asked, his voice projecting its usual stoicism but his eyes showed his concern.

"Yeah. Fine." She said with a nod. She then lowered her voice, looking over at Alice, who sat at her desk focusing on her computer. "Tom gave me this." Liz handed him the keycard.

He turned it over in his hand, feeling the sleek plastic the surrounded that magnetic card.

"What's it for?"

"One of the doors here. Told me to go down there at 2 in the morning on Thursday." She explained. "He didn't tell me what's inside."

He eyed the object pensively then handed it back to her. "Then we've got two days…Let's talk about it later. You need to see this."

She followed him as he stepped towards Alice, who had turned around in her chair. Displayed on the screen were what Liz recognized to be two brain scans side by side.

"What is this?" She asked.

"These are MRIs of your brains." Alice said. She then pointed at the white masses that adorned their brains. "These things here…they're tumors."

Liz felt her breath catch at Alice's words. Her eyes widened as they glided across the screen, counting each one. She didn't miss the fact that they were in identical places.

"That's…That's in our heads?" She asked in disbelief.

Alice nodded, silent and melancholy.

"They seem to be harmless." She placated. "So you shouldn't worry too much about them."

Liz swallowed thickly and nodded, attempting to put a smile on her face. _At least there was that._

"So…why are they there?" She asked weakly.

"From what I know, they don't really serve much purpose." Alice admitted. "But…"

"But what?" Liz demanded.

"The number of tumors corresponds to the number of times Don has…died."

Liz looked at each one, and sure enough, Alice pointed to six different masses. Each one nestled in the depths of their brains. She clenched her jaw at the sight. It was certainly jarring. Inhuman and impossible. But that wasn't what shook her the most. She realized that Reddington had lied to her. Again.

Alice showed them another similarity in their hearts and Liz couldn't quite keep her mind on it. Only the betrayal she was feeling and the anger that followed.

The day went on with more scans and tests and both Liz and Ressler realized that Alice was buying time for them, clearly trying to stave off the inevitable 'experiments' that she had warned them about. It was then that they finally recognized that she really _was_ trying to help them, which felt rare in their current fugitive state.

Just before they were sent back to their room, Liz stopped Alice and showed her the keycard.

"Tom gave this to me." She explained. "Do you know anything about the room? It's on—"

"Subfloor 3. At the end of the hall, to the right." She interjected with wide eyes.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she held the card and inspected it with scrutinizing interest.

"So you know about it?" Liz asked.

Alice nodded, turning to Ressler. "This opens Dr. Carter's office."

Liz looked at him, confused.

"He's the lead doctor who did…this…to us." He explained.

"The company's been looking for this thing since he died." Alice pondered. "And Tom had it the whole time?"

Liz couldn't help but notice what she said. _'Since he died…'_ Clearly, Ressler recognized it, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a squeeze. She shook the thought off for the moment, though she gave him a quick smile.

"Doesn't the company own this facility? Why didn't they just open it themselves?" Ressler asked.

"Dr. Carter was an extremely gifted scientist. But he was also very paranoid. He didn't want anyone to know much about his research, so he rigged his office with a sort of…self-destruct mechanism." Alice disclosed.

"Self-destruct?" Liz scoffed in disbelief.

Alice nodded. "If anyone forced themselves in, they'd be incinerated. Along with all his research. This keycard is the only way in." She handed the card back to Liz. "There's gotta be a reason why Tom had it and never used it."

"And gave it to you." Ressler added cautiously.

"He told me he wanted me to trust him." Liz said bitterly, keeping her eyes on the black card. "He said he wanted to make things right."

The three of them stood silently, pondering the implications of Tom's actions and the possibility of finding answers until Alice dismissed them.

"If you two decide to snoop in there, let me know." She said. "Maybe I can help figure out what's important in there."

Liz nodded and followed Ressler back into their room. When they entered, she almost walked into him standing at the entrance, and was confused until she saw the room.

No longer was there a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. Instead there were two twin beds laid out with a nightstand in-between them. They shared a look and shrugged, though Liz felt a little annoyed that Tom acted like he had the right to be jealous about her sleeping next to another man. She merely shook her head in irritation and began getting ready for bed.

"Liz." Ressler called out as he stayed by the door.

She turned from in front of the bathroom and looked at him expectantly.

"About Tom… there's something I need to tell you." He broached.

"What is it?" She asked, walking back towards him.

He took a deep breath and looked at her, almost nervously. "I remembered something this morning. I think it might have been how we met."

"What does Tom have to do with that?" She questioned insistently.

"It seemed like he was my C.I." He said. "Told me that if I wanted to find Reddington, I should start with you."

Liz was floored by the revelation. Not only did Tom know about her connection to Reddington, his involvement with what happened to her and Ressler was deeper than they thought. Assuming the memory was true, of course, but it seemed too specific to be fake.

"I'm sorry, Liz." Ressler apologized.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. "For what?"

"Not telling you sooner…And assuming it's true, it means I got close to you just to find Reddington." He said quietly. "I'm sorry."

He was right. Liz realized it then. Whether or not it turned into something else, their closeness began as an assignment. Just like Tom. She couldn't think of anything to say to Ressler. Too much went on in her mind, and she didn't want to say anything she was going to regret. Instead, she stared at him for a moment, before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

* * *

He didn't know how long he had been restlessly asleep. What felt like hours of contemplation brought him there more suddenly than he could have expected. Drowsily, he could just hear the soft squeak of a door closing behind him in the cold darkness of the room. He was still asleep, but just slightly became aware of the way his sheets were pulled back and the cold rushed around him. It didn't last, however, as a weight settled upon the bed; the sheets fell back in place and returned their warmth, but not without the addition of careful movements in front of him and the smell of shampoo wafting and teasing his senses.

Drawn by the sweet scent, his nose nuzzled sleepily into soft, cool locks. Instinctively his arm wrapped around her and pulled her close. The last thing he heard was a satisfied sigh before he drifted back to sleep.


End file.
